Looking at the warehouse of housing supplies from the balcony, saran-wrapped magical building blocks nested within larger building blocks within buildings of self-replicating efficiency, after the potential self-reflexive horror of it all, then come the questions of wonder, of how we even does civilization encourage it all, turning raw materials over and over again into these ideas and markets and commercial ventures.
Backing away from the suburban and consumerist and observing as an alien scientist might — or just a weirdly speculative gazing — I saw this technological and industrialization was still just a different form of nature. Commerce was in nature, or perhaps more accurately, an expression of nature. It was just this thing that sprouted from the universe.
Even this structured idea of a depot, where the self-growing greeneries of nature were sometimes plotted and sprouted and herbicided before folded neatly into the corners, this too ultimately derived itself from nature as much as it helped to reinforce the home as the object placed against the elements and forces of nature.
The vista worked my brain over the vast sea of aisles, trying to reconcile the majesty — the sheer phenomenology — how all this amazing, functional crap sprouted forth from the fractals of the universe. Here. And in the next town ever.
I turned back around from the railing, and Savannah was still investigating the nature of blinds, conversing with the friendly employee aproned in orange, working the swing shift on an Easter Sunday.