You sit on your couch. Safe. At home. Or so you think.
But they’re there. Silently watching. Biding their time.
There’s some wind, a scratch at the window.
It’s OK, it’s just outside.
But they’re inside the house too. Their signs everywhere. Wood walls, the table, the fiber of the couch. They’re touching you through your clothes.
Inhale a quick breath, you’ve just inhaled their exhalations.
They’re on your plate. In the food. They are the food, perhaps where they are most recognizable.
Walk outside. they are everywhere. A green blur. There is no escape.
And yet there is detail in the blur. Lots of it. They grow in and around and above each other.
They’re even underground.
Too many see and yet don’t also observe.
And more of us had better observe, because we are dependent on them. The reverse is much less true.