Aware and unaware: We coexist

Squirrel nest and jet plane
First  Church LLC
and Kaiser Permanente
Seattle Central

Looking up while waiting for a ride recently, I was struck by the old and the new, the animal-made and the human-made items of our world, the duplicity of the unaware and the aware in our modern lives.

The squirrels, whose nest that is at the top of the trees, don't care about Valentine's Day, three-day weekends, or the rising prices of eggs. The trees don't think about  people experiencing homelessness or the Seattle City Council candidates. The jet pilot must care enormously about unidentified flying-objects being shot down by our military, and healthcare workers and pastors of churches have to be profoundly aware of shortages of staff and dwindling congregations.

Since the beginnings of plant life, bare branches would have swayed in a midwinter breeze.

Since the beginnings of animal life, a squirrel’s nest would be visible in a leafless tree.

Only in the last ten millennia have large buildings such as these visibly stood as markers of human hope, care, wisdom, and grace.

Only since the last century would a jet plane become a dimension in a skyscape.

But overarching our forever world is the breezy beauty of a sunny February day.