The View From Up Here

It’s not often that you get a bird’s eye view of the world.  But today, I can see for miles.  The endless sky stretches over office buildings and churches, schools and apartment buildings.  Some rooftops are brown by design and others are so by neglect.  By observation, every shape and size of roof can be seen: domes, spires, peaked and flat.  I can see buildings with red brick and green, stone mixed with glass, decorative touches and merely functional ones.  People move about unaware of my watching eye above, hurrying along or sauntering slowly, beating their own rhythm on the sidewalk, even if I cannot hear it.  Cars are lined up in parking lots, neat and orderly as if at an auto dealership, their bumps and bruises invisible from this height.  Semis move about, stopping to discharge their contents, the life blood of whatever organization they are servicing.  Buses likewise admit riders while pulsing out others.  It is a living, breathing city, moving people about along various veins and arteries.

But then maybe I have a jaundiced view.  I’m observing it from a hospital room in the heart clinic.