I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees.

I went out to Bogra and on the way out of Dhaka we passed the brickyards. The brickyards are as the name leads you to believe where they make brick. They sit on the mud flats of the rivers and appear to an uninitiated observer such as myself like rows and rows of bricks spreading outward from a giant smoke stack. The smoke stack is maybe 20 feet in diameter and tapers slightly as it rises up to a height of 100 feet. On the day I passed, it was a little hazy and the brickyards started at the road and covered the world as they disappeared into the haze in the distance. I have never seen such a desolate scene and the only image I can compare it to is from the Lorax.