I seem to be surrounded by running water.
In the basement, water flows through the geothermal unit. The cat fountain hums, the shower gushess and the dishwasher gurgles.
Then there's the river. I can see the surface of the water from my window. Sometimes it's green, sometimes grey, usually smooth and placid but on windy days there are a million little rippling waves. In the winter clumps of ice pass by.
I'm thinking about the contrast between the river and the dishwasher. Both involve lots of moving water.
The dishwasher springs into action when I press a button.
The river rises and falls with the rainfall across the land, connected to the sky, the sun and the weather. All the parts work together in the outdoors. But our houses houses are separate little mini-worlds.
Often, my only interaction with the real world is through a glass window, and even then, my attention is largely elsewhere.
Is the real world just patiently waiting for us to come back?
