As retirement villages take up ever-increasing proportions of our cities' landscapes, with the burgeoning numbers of the fogie class, space will be at a premium.

A tall building, with a garden space built into it every few floors, will provide the same purpose as is currently served by acres of often unkempt gardens and sprawling buildings in and around current retirement homes.

Here, beautifully tended beds of thriving roses around the edge of the garden floors cheer and delight the old folks, staff and visitors alike. The water that is used to maintain the rose gardens on level 40 can filter down, to do the same on (say) 36, 32, 28, 24, 20, 16, 12, 8 & 4.

Rooms are completely modular, with a large external elevator to take "new", empty rooms up to the top levels, to await their next inhabitant.

In the early stages of their confinement to the nursing home, relatives of the err... inmates, will take the time to venture all the way to the top of the tower, to visit their Granny, whose eyesight will still be keen enough to appreciate the endless views available.

Later, the relatives will feel it is less imposition to travel increasingly shorter distances to see Grand-dad, whose Alzheimer's is kicking in, so they would visit him less and less often unless it was deliberately made easier.

The nice nurses use the modular room system to shift his entire room down to a more appropriate level as he deteriorates. This saves disruption and confusion for someone whose world is increasingly defined by his immediate surroundings.

On the ground floor are located palliative care and the hospital section (making it easy to come and go, as the end draws near)

Eventually, they end up in the basement, just below the palliative care unit, where the non-denominational chapel and crematorium are situated.

Roses just love potash fertiliser.