Last Sunday, I took a walk in Lake Chabot Regional Park, near my home. My goal was to enjoy some scenic beauty, smell some greenery, admire some trees, and frankly, to accumulate plenty of steps to reach my 11,000 daily goal on my Fitbit.

It was a beautiful September morning, warm but not yet hot. As usual, there were more people near the entrance than once I got a half mile in. The usual shady spots, dry creeks, and golden dry California grass were all there, ready to enjoy. But I started to notice something. I was trying to absorb the natural environment, hear the birds and bugs, and feel the majestic beauty of the taller trees, but there was a lot more going on.

I heard two people approaching, talking loudly about something. Then, a squealing child, running free. Bicyclists whizzed by. Runners with earbuds chugged along, seemingly oblivious. I saw what I believe was a trainer with a panting, sweating customer in tow. One man had a portable radio playing in his pocket.

In the distance, I saw paddleboats and the little restaurant that sells bait for fishing along with sandwiches, candy bars, and snacks. An airplane flew by overhead.

Suddenly, I got an idea about why it’s so hard to get people aware that we have a climate problem. We don’t live in the natural environment!

Although the noisy people and zooming cyclists were a little annoying, I immediately realized that they were just like me–using nature for recreation. I wanted views and quiet, but some folks were making sure that their five-mile run wasn’t interrupted by cars or crosswalks. The families just wanted to get the kids outside for an outing. The 10-foot-wide paved path was lots better for the bike riders than dodging cars.

Nature is where we have recreation, but it’s not where we spend our days, so why worry about it? Our world is made up of computers, cars, buildings and TV, along with cell phones and all the other mass-produced soft and hard goods we love. Our entire culture is man-made. No wonder we can’t relate to a damaged planet–it doesn’t seem relevant.

Even the “nature” I celebrated is a man-made lake, the result of dam built in 1874-75 to create a reservoir. The area didn’t become a recreational area until parts were opened up in the 1960s. It’s hardly wild, but compared to my street, it is.

As I hoofed it back home and checked periodically at the slim device on my wrist, I was left wondering at how we’re going to sound the climate change alarm if nobody is listening.