Civilization Marches On

The redwood trees surrounding his home are taller than dreams. Still, he has become oblivious to them. When he lived in Manhattan the same had been true of the skyscrapers. Struck dumb at first sight, one gradually acclimates and  pyramids of the modern world become merely landscape. Possibly it was no different if one lived in Boulder, under the Flatiron edge of the Rockies. One has to work, make love and sleep. Distraction with grandeur is a time-waster.

A narrow, fragile ecosystem cradles the redwoods. Daily fog and rain nourishes them and they grow for thousands of years. They also harbor aerial ecosystems far above the forest floor which release small amounts of detritus to the air. Coupled with fog and rain this by-product of the trees dirties his car. He wonders if perhaps the trees were chopped down he might be able to go longer between car washes?