DODGE CITIES

To the creatures of our back yard, stories told by humans are beyond comprehension. Their wisdom is innate. Beneath the bird feeder, standing up on a rock, lizard stares straight at me. Robin likes to scratch around in the seeds, kicking out small showers of them. We all know each other. But they're not going to venture far from the feeder.

From my relative abundance of brain cells, strange ideas flash suddenly from obscure depths.

Early on in human history our culture gained an ancestor that bit into what has recently become a well known logo. The flouted tale was a dodge. Given a name and a priesthood to sustain it, the story was necessary. It begs the question: What are the blooms of an apple tree?

Dominion is part of the tale. If less imaginative creatures can't fathom it, still, we are unpredictable and very powerful. On equal footing we share the same origin, and I for one, am with them. We all share the same planet, the one we're changing in accordance with some imagined dominion. There's no dodging that.