Humor – Page 7 – Nourish-n-Cherish

Navigating Life With the Power of Stories

Ooh! That’s a good one!

Read it!

Hmm..must check that one out.

Whadiddesey?

Predictable!

I was enjoying the narrative voice in my brain as I jotted down the titles almost as much as the commentary given by the folks themselves. It had been so long since we sat in a room where everyone introduced themselves with their names and their childhood favorite book.

As I went over the list I was writing, I wondered what those authors would feel when they heard about the kind of influence they had on children, now adults, decades later. Many of the authors we mentioned in our room were no more. Yet. Their words lived on, the worlds they created lived on, and the memories associated with these words and worlds lived on. One person said of their book that it saved them. The escape into the book saved them as a child.

Isn’t that marvelous?

Our Fascination with Stories

I understood again our fascination with words, stories, images – in a confusing world, they provide guidance. In a fast evolving world with its revolving door of trends and gadgets, books provide continuum.

To make sense of the world around us using stories is in itself an evolutionary gift. One that whales possess and possibly elephants too. Many creatures pass down knowledge needed to survive – are they in the form of stories? We do not know. We might soon enough. I read this article in which AI was able to decode sperm whale language.

NPR: AI to decode Sperm Whale Language

Quote from Cosmos by Carl Sagan:

Some whale sounds are called songs, but we are still ignorant of their true nature and meaning. They range over a broad band of frequencies, down to well below the lowest sound the human ear can detect. A typical whale song lasts for perhaps 15 minutes; the longest about an hour. Often it is repeated, identically beat for beat, measure for measure, note for note.

Very often, the members of the group will sing the same song together. By some mutual consensus, some collaborative song-writing, the piece changes month by month, slowly and predictably. These vocalizations are complex. If the songs of the humpback whale are enunciated as a tonal language, the total information content, the number of bits of information in such songs, is some 10 to the power of 6 bits, about the same as the information content of the Iliad or the Odyssey.

I would love to hear and understand the generational wisdom that these large benevolent creatures have for living in the oceans. The ever changing oceans must be a rich source of material.

Through our words, and the stories of our lives, we help make sense of the world around us. We figure out what our heart desires, what our morals are, the choices we must make, the work we must do, the characters we want to become.

Becoming is a Messy Business

So what are the stories we tell ourselves, and those close to us? How do those reminiscences help? I remember laughing at a statement I heard once – “avan oru padiccha muttaal -அவன் ஒரு படிச்ச முட்டாள் ” which loosely translates to: “He is an educated fool.”, and it stuck with me. How often the growth that has to happen at critical moments in our life does not happen, and we are left dealing with the repercussions of this missed growth? The right book, the right story at the right time.

Becoming is a messy business, and yet as long as we have a sense of working towards who we are becoming, we can continue growing.

In all these millennia, there does not seem to be a better teacher than stories. Small everyday stories of normal people navigating life in this balancing act of the universe.

Your Favorite Stories

“What about you? What was your favorite book as a child?”

I was somewhat surprised my turn had come this quickly, but I rallied, “The Magic Faraway Tree by Enid Blyton. We had this 90 foot eucalyptus tree near our home. It was so tall, more than half of it was obscured in the clouds, and it was very easy to imagine that high up in the clouds were revolving worlds – a new one every few days.” I said to a titter of polite murmurs.

The remaining folks went on with their favorite books. In describing the old tree near our childhood home and all those rainy days spent reading my favorite books, I found myself smiling a small smile.

This would be a nice thing to share with the children and ask after their favorite books.

What was your favorite book as a child?

Nyctinasty Flowers’ Lessons

I could barely stay indoors. You see? The day had started off with a mild drizzle. After what felt like months of sunshine, a little bit of moisture felt amazing. I stood outside peering up at the clouds – in itself a rarity now given how parched things get during Californian summers in the Bay Area. Even with summer flowers blooming and vegetable gardens flourishing, I yearn for the simple pleasures of marvelous sunsets, clouds, a pattering of rain, some breeze.

That is perhaps one of the things I miss most about the Nilgiris – the western ghats in South India where the rain drops and eucalytpus provided the backdrop for magic and mysticism. The rains, the clouds, the winds – how in one day you can experience so many different climes and you have to be prepared for it all, and still go about your day.

Nature is Transformative

That evening I said, “Well – come on then! “ hustling everyone out to see the glorious sunset. The clouds had scattered during the course of the day, but there were enough of them still there – enough to provide crepuscular glory with the rays of the setting sun. Some clouds looked like an artists reluctant brush stroke jostling right alongside the weightier ones. How every evening a different painting is rolled out to us continues to be a source of wonder.

Art is transformative – so is nature.

It transforms ordinary days into extraordinary ones.

It assures you that normal is numinous.

Nyctinasty flowers

That evening, I took in the deer grazing near the river banks, the rising full-moon swollen, resplendent and beautiful against the setting sun orangish-red and bright. I don’t have to be a naturalist to know that the birds felt it, the deer felt it, the frisky fox felt it, the fish in the river felt it, the flowers felt it. I stopped to admire everything – especially those that are classified as nyctinasty flowers :nyctinasty flowers like the evening primroses or gardenias close up for the night. They show you the importance of closing and resting in order to bloom and spready one’s beauty for the next day.

If ever there is an appointment to keep, it is with nature in those moments in the golden hour when all the world is settling in for a quieter pace.

Sunrises and Sunsets: An Opacarophile’s Notes of Magic

Every time we go on vacation, I proclaim proudly the first night, “I am going to go for a sunrise walk in the morning. Do not look for me!”

It is old hat by now. The children and the husband exchange amused looks and say, “Sure! Of course!” Followed by a chortle of such mirth that it should offend me. But vacations and all that – I let it slide. You see? I am rather a slow starter in the mornings. The caffeine tries, the shower tries, the folks around me try. But it takes a good hour or so before the spirit can rise and shine and birds chirping can become song to my ears and all that.

This time though, I surprised everyone including myself.

I set off on my sunrise, sunset and starry strolls every day I was there. It was marvelous – one morning, I sat trying to discern all the hues and colors in the sunrise, the shapes of the clouds, the fast disappearing mists that were clinging not a moment ago, making way for the humid day ahead of us.

I could hear my heart rise in song without emitting a single chirp – trying to keep in tune with the little palm warblers, and the mynahs reminding me of a silly rhyme we would chant as school children, giggling ourselves silly every time.

One for success

Two for a toy

Three for a boy (giggle, giggle)

Four for a girl (giggle, giggle)

Five for a letter (we were in a boarding school)

Six for something (can’t remember)

Seven for a secret (Secret Seven By Enid Blyton must’ve inspired that one!)

And on and on, it would go.

I smiled thinking of that rhyme – something I hadn’t chanted in three decades, and yet, it came to me that morning looking at the little birds hopping about the island. The brain really is marvelous. Scents, images, words, phrases can all evoke associative memory – it truly is powerful.

Taking in the slow way in which the island is drenched in its beauty, I walked back to our cozy lodgings, feeling very smug, and proclaiming that all those who missed the sunrise .. well, missed the sunrise.

“The sun will rise again tomorrow, Mother.” the children chorused looking gobsmacked that I had taken a sunrise stroll.

I somehow managed a sunrise stroll every day that we were there. On the last day, the husband joined me, and the island, to show us how special that was, even greeted us with a rainbow by the Buddha statue overlooking the ocean.

We were quiet for sometime wondering how a simple play of light and moisture can produce something as beautiful as that. Even the birds seemed to have fallen silent. Then the birds chirped, and the husband chattered again.

An opacarophile is a lover of sunrises and sunsets

A solist is one who loves events of the sun (sunrise, sunset, eclipse) etc

A heliophile is who loves the sun

A photophile is a lover of light

I feel the importance of this quote – for both sunset and sunrises

“Never waste any amount of time doing anything important when there is a sunset outside that you should be sitting under.” – C Joybell.C

Each Day An Adventure

I can’t help but think of one of my favorite authors, Gerald Durrell and how he describes the greek island, Corfu and its environs. The colors of the island, the vibrance of everything around them.

Hawaii is similar. It isn’t lost on me how very lucky we are to be able to visit the islands

I was trying to write about our recent vacation at Big Island, Hawaii. But I found myself strangely tied up for words. I could babble, I could close my eyes and let the images of the island rise up and shine out of every cell in the body. But I was having difficulty writing posts for them.

Hawaii is a sensation. A feeling that seeps into every pore, a light that illuminates every cell. It was the only possible explanation. How else could one feel surrounded by tropical flora, the full Milky Way galaxy overnight every night, the ocean and its abundance weighing down on you from every side?

Hawaii-COLLAGE

The colors, scents, warmth, waters, stars – many island destinations provide this feeling I am sure. But there was something special about the Hawaiian islands this time. It was an impromptu trip planned on the spur of the moment, each day unfolding as it came with not much thought or action plotted. Yet, every day seemed like a perfectly planned eternity that heavens boast of. We swam in the beaches, occasionally catching glimpses of colorful fish, or be gazing out at the changing landscapes on a drive and wonder how in one moment you felt like you were in the moors of Scotland with its brambles and heathen covered vegetation and the next in the misty mountains of Nilgiris with rain spattering your windshields; and the moment after gazing upon an ocean so blue and in so many blues that it surely could not be real, could it?

Every morning, I set off on my sunrise walk – quietly taking in the changing skies, soak in the light illuminating the island, and wonder about the stark difference to our work-a-day life and mornings.

Every night, I would set off on my good night walk gazing up at the skies illuminated beyond anything I remember – maybe it was the fact that we were on an island far away in the Pacific Ocean with nothing for miles around, or something else, but the skies felt fuller – darker. Nothing but the piercing light of the stars to behold.

“Gradually the magic of the island settled over us as gently and clingingly as pollen. Each day had a tranquillity, a timelessness, about it, so that you wished it would never end. But then the dark skin of night would peel off and there would be a fresh day waiting for us, glossy and colourful as a child’s transfer and with the same tinge of unreality.”

― Gerald Durrell, The Corfu Trilogy

A Cloudy Haze & Musings of Maya

Maya : All is Maya

“An abstract morning, isn’t it?” I said yawning.

“What do you mean?”, said the husband giving me a sharp look. It was a bit early for a chat especially when he had Reel-ing to do. (Watching instagram reels, you-tube shorts etc, not merely reeling from the effects of them)

“Cloudy mornings are like that. The reality is a bit muted. As though allowing us the luxury of examining reality through the haze of clouds and mists.”

He sighed and put down his phone. He clearly wasn’t getting his reality of watching inane reels and cackling at the virtual reality shock-fest it offered.

“Well – you know it feels like you can stop and look at the world, examine and ponder the reality of the world. The excitement it can have without actually doing it on a morning like this.”

Nervous or Excited?

“Did you know? Apparently, when they interview Olympic athletes and ask them if they are nervous before a match or race, they say they are excited.”

“Happy to latch on to something concrete, are you?” I said moving away from the world of Maya.

He grinned.

“Well – maybe they activate the same neural pathways in the brain. Must check it out. They do have similar responses. Adrenaline pumping – making the body ready for the action. “ I said.

“Yes – but maybe Olympic athletes’s brains acknowledging them as excitement rather than nervousness means they perform differently.” He said.

Optimism can be very draining!

The husband is a big sucker for positive thinking and all that lark. The things we have to resort to in order to get him to say he is in pain after playing tennis for days on end, is to be seen to be believed.

“Maybe just sore. ”, he’ll say, wincing.

“Are you in pain? Would you like me to get the Icy Hot balm?”

“Not pain – just a little interesting soreness.”

“You can’t move, can you?”

Laugh.

“Acknowledge you’re in pain, and I’ll get you the Icy Hot.”

“Nope. Never.”

“Fine. Then. Interesting aches do not need medication right?”

“Okay fine – I am pretty sore – can you get me the Icy Hot?”

So it goes.

Optimism! It can be very draining.

Optimism Tales: Goats, Creepers, and Spiders

Optimism as an abstract thought though, that can be entertained. The optimism of goats who make that leap to the tree branch high above, or that creeper that leaps skywards ready to take hold without knowing how, that spider whose web is an architectural marvel – they all must’ve felt optimism to start and stick with their ventures. “Were they excited, nervous? Must interview them and put them on reels so you can find out!” I said sticking my tongue out at him.

Existential Angst & The Creation of Meaning

The son and I were listening to a podcast called Philosophize This on the Creation of Meaning series. Stephen West’s voice filled the kitchen while the week-end cooking was being done by Yours Truly, and a history project was being colored in by the son.

Many of us are familiar with the Existential Quest of mankind. In the absence of knowing exactly what animals think, we assume that as a species, we are uniquely gifted with existential angst. Does a whale worry about it? Do octopuses? Sheep?

Existential Angst

We all feel it at some point in time – some more keenly than others. Some for more prolonged periods in time.

https://www.philosophizethis.org/search?q=creation%20of%20meaning

“Hmm…” we said almost together, and laughed. We were both thinking of that beautiful night a week ago. We were driving towards the middle of nowhere, in search of a parking lot, wide enough to allow us to glimpse the marvels above us, and far away enough from urban settlements to truly allow the darkness of the night to creep in and enclose us. It was during the preceding waxing moon phase, which meant that the skies were moonlit past midnight. So, we started driving past midnight and reached a suitably dark spot at about 3 a.m.

As we gazed up at the stars that summer night leading up to the August full moon, we were filled with this sense of awe. A sense of gratitude for being a part of this incredible universe, and for being able to play a small part in it.

One of my favorite quotes from Ursula K Le Guin from the Lathe of Heaven is:

“Things don’t have purposes, as if the universe were a machine, where every part has a useful function. What’s the function of a galaxy? I don’t know if our life has a purpose and I don’t see that it matters. What does matter is that we’re a part. Like a thread in a cloth or a grass-blade in a field. It is and we are. What we do is like wind blowing on the grass.”

― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven

The Perseid meteor showers were supposed to peak around dawn and we yawned our way through a steaming cup of tea to keep us company during the wait. In time, one or the other of us would yell, “There!”, and the others would moan. Till then, we gazed upwards, our eyes acclimatizing to the dark.

Whether we saw the meteors brightly enough or not, we did land up seeing the Milky Way -cloud-like stretch out and yawn in the canopy above. Lazily strewn – intensely bright in spots, and each star shining to its own capacity.

The Creation of Meaning

Huddled up watching the stars like that lulls the brain into the universe. With a slow sense of serenity and awe pervading your being, I found myself wondering about meaning.

Without meaning to, we attach an awful lot of meaning to many things.

Back in the kitchen, the son & I snapped back, and agreed that as far as meaningful experiences go, stargazing was at the top of the list.

“At what point do we decide that being us is all that is expected of us? Be a planet, be a star, be a galaxy, be an elephant or a human-being. There is nothing else. Why do we keep wanting to do meaningful things?” I asked.

The husband gave me an amused look, and said, “Huh Hmm! Pesu!” (You can Talk!)

I had the grace to laugh.

“But really – why not move to an obscure part of the planet, watch the stars at night and just live a happy life?”

“Why not indeed?“ He said, barely hiding the laughter in his voice.

“If more of us could do that, then existential angst would not be a thing, and without that, are we human-beings? That is how we come full circle or spiral into non-being! Get it? Get it?” I said chuckling. “Even the galaxy’s shape looked like we needed an artist’s rendition to show us the rest of the picture of the spiral. “

The daughter, who’d come yawning downstairs, said, “Thank goodness I wasn’t here for that meaningless lark. You’d have woken me up, and Euuuhh”, she shuddered and peered into the simmering contents of the stove. “Ahh – all my favorite things today! Thanks Ma!”

“The Creation of Meaning! Ladies & Gentlemen! “ I said with a flourish, and she laughed.

Question for you:

Life’s meaning to each of us is different and it is different at different stages in life. What are some of the things that you think give meaning to life?

Rediscovering the Art of Play: Exploring the Wonders of the Solar System

I vividly remember one Science class in which my teacher explained the solar system, our place in it, and how fast we were traveling through Space. It is an incredible concept, and when explained well, can spark interest and curiosity in a young child. I remember being flushed after that Science class, maybe because I was chosen to be the Earth. I had to rotate and spin around one of my best friends who was the Sun. What greater joy could there be?

As interesting as the lesson was, what sealed the memory in my mind is the fact that the chosen sun that day was exuberant, the chosen earth was joyous, and the rest of the class giggly and slightly jealous that they weren’t the ones to be given the chance to get up from their seats. The latter point gave way to some accusations about being picked by the teacher “How come you both were picked? Sitting right next to each other too?”

I saw their point. Usually, teachers are careful about picking volunteers or nominees from opposite ends of the classroom. These little dramas are part of what makes our time together memorable.

The little upset may have dampened our spirits somewhat, but we were quick to regain lost ground. To children who generally liked the joy of spinning, the morning lesson was a gift indeed. To those of you who have not experienced the heady giddy sensation of going round-and-round recently, please try it again. It is marvelous. If you can find a giggly companion, young at heart, please do so, and it enhances the experience in no small manner.

Hypothesis, Conclusions, Fact-Checking & Collaborations

I remember it was during our little spin-ney-spin-ney sessions that one of us had a question as to why we feel giddy when we spin. Science is full of people who came up with their hypotheses and then set out to prove it. Our little band of scientists was no less committed. I came up with a perfectly wrong explanation for the phenomenon and it shows the sturdy nature of my friends that no one laughed at me that day. Instead, they indulged me in an experiment.

“Maybe the Earth is already spinning and when we spin in the opposite direction, it makes us feel dizzy.”

There were some thoughtful nods at this – “Then we should be able to spin even faster if we were to go the same direction right? “ said one. There was only one way to check – spin in both directions and find out for ourselves if this was the right theory.

“Which direction does the Earth spin – do you know?” A collective wave of shoulders shrugged at the same time, but little things like this do not deter the determined. Someone said we will just time each other for 10 spins in each direction, adjust for right-handed, left-handed, ambidextrous, null-i-dexterous (the opposite word for being equally clumsy with both hands is called ambisinister, but I think null-i-dexterous sounds kinder) and we would be set.

That’s what we did. The exercise resulted in loud laughter, and the sound waves brought the earlier complainants to the fold wanting to join in the game too. All recent rancors forgotten, the experiments were done with rigor, encouragement and accuracy.

While we are always in awe of the creative thinkers who take us a leap forward with their works, I have always wondered how each moment came to be: how Thinking Man figured so much out. This is one of the best ways in which I have seen the sentiment expressed.

Excerpt from The Book That Nobody Read – Chasing the Revolutions of Nicholas Copernicus by Owen Gingrich

“The greatest of scientists have been unifiers, men who found connections that had never before been perceived. Isaac Newton destroyed the dichotomy between celestial and terrestrial motions, forging a common set of laws that applied to the Earth and sky alike. James Clerk Maxwell connected electricity and magnetism, and showed that light was electromagnetic radiation. Charles Darwin envisioned how all-living organisms were related through common descent. Albert Einstein tore asunder the separation between matter and energy, linking them through his famous E=mc^2 equation.”

Scientists do not always know what to expect and can sometimes be surprised at the results. That is what happened to us. The results were inconclusive and resulted in:

* One of us falling to the ground laughing heartily

* Another banging their head against a conveniently placed pole nearby

* Another giving off an inaccurate imitation of a drunkard, which was impressive given that this was happening prior to the Internet or Cable Television, and the child’s parents were teetotallers

* Two subjects crashing into each other mid-orbital, resulting in tummy aches and headaches together

Our motley band of scientists had by this time dissolved into a fit of giggles. Good naturedly, we shrugged off the theory, accepting with grace that it may be an erroneous hypotheses and moved on to the next thing to play together. Consensus, criticism, fact checking, and collaborations had been achieved with the greatest of unity and hilarity.

The Art of Play

In every problem, creativity and imagination are our solid allies. The simple act of playing together and collaborating to solve problems, keeping each other true is now more valued than ever. Today to see that school recess times have come down; children do not play out on the streets in free play mode anymore, but are rather being ferried up and down to supervised, classes with rigid rules of social conduct usually in the presence of adults; and the playgrounds in our neighborhood have become safe havens for spiders to spin their webs.

Could we add in structured unstructured time – so we can all benefit from free spirited Play once again?

Those who were never exposed to Play may not miss it, but those who know the beauty of it, will always feel the richer for it. Much like Art, Play is Art, and I pray we do not lose the Art of Play.

The Birds of Heaven

“Do you think we’d have seen at least fifteen species of birds?” the husband said, huffing and puffing beside me on his bicycle.

We had biked up a little hillock, and even though it looked like the sort of thing we’d have torn up while playing hide-and-seek as ten year olds, it proved to be a huffer just a few decades later, Curious how life reminds you about the passage of time and all that right?

“Easily!” I said, and started listing them off.

Hawaiian stilts
Terns
Avocets
Pelicans
Geese
Ducks (green necked, wood ducks)
Quails
Egret
Heron
Green heron
Blackbirds
Turkeys
Turkey vulture
Red tailed hawks
Grebes
Cormorants
Coots

The huffing and humming had stilled, and I turned around to see what had happened. The husband grinned sheepishly – “Oh! Yes – might’ve stopped listening after you started listing the birds.”

I laughed.

It was a beautiful ride by the bay. The colors of the bay combined with the golden light of the evening made for a fantastic setting for all these birds. There was a time when the soft cooing of the birds, the lapping sounds of the waters around us and the flapping of wings was all that could be heard for miles. If there was a heaven, would these birds be there too? I would hope so.

The Tales of Birds

I am sure the falcons and the avocets have the stories of their lives. That pesky crow that annoys the hawk must have their heroic tales. With their enhanced senses, I have often wondered the world through their lenses.

In any case, we were racing against the sunset, and time was showing it’s presence with every passing minute.

The elongated shadows of our bikes finished as my long-nosed shadow hit the garage entrance. “Made me think of all the long-beaked friends we saw today.” I said laughing.

It was true – especially down by the bay where we see many birds fishing, long beaks seem the norm: avocets, terns, pelicans, curlews, herons, egrets. They all have sharp beaks that give them decisive looks. I wonder every time I look at them what goes through their mind as they hunt for their food, look after their young and build their nests. This is, after all, what most of the lifeforms on Earth do. And yet, each does so differently, unique to their species, unique to their abilities, and unique to their habitats.

The last birds I stopped to admire in our race against the sunset were the Hawaiian stilts (curiously these birds were once on the endangered list, but have since made a comeback and I am so glad. ) They are a joy to watch in the sunset’s glorious light, with their pink legs, their sharp beaks, and the black-and-white contrasts.

Time is a Curiosity

Each of these birds surveys the life beneath the waters differently, and with the deft skills of an archer plunges in for their kill. Their groups merging and reforming with the bay’s tides. Time is a curiosity in these settings, and one can spend hours in these environs, filling the soul.

The trail we are lucky to have access to is beautiful, and every time we set out to catch a little ride by the waters come back more peaceful, filled with gratitude at the marvelous forms of life we share the planet with. I have tried describing rides like this and come up with no one word that can capture it all. Maybe a feeling of abundance? Serenity? In our human existence of intense craving, the ride and what it offers pales in comparison. It is slow, it is present, and it somehow exemplifies your horizons.

“When we go down to the lowest of the low tide lines and look down into the shallow waters, there’s all the excitement of discovering a new world. Once you have entered such a world, its fascination grows and somehow you find your mind has gained a new dimension, a new perspective — and always thereafter you find yourself remember[ing] the beauty and strangeness and wonder of that world — a world that is as real, as much a part of the universe, as our own. “

– Rachel Carson

Mine Eyes Have Seen The Glory

I have always been fascinated to see the world through another’s eyes. Maybe one of the reasons I am drawn to Fiction. It does seem to be an innate trait too. Obviously when I read the book, Eye By Eye – Comparing How Animals See – By Sara Levine, illustrated by T S SpookyTooth, it brought the eye fascination back in full force.

I closed my eyes after reading – it was well past midnight – I had probably read 3 or 4 different books and I really needed to sleep if I had to be a functioning adult the next day. So I did. I closed my eyes – wondering about eyes.

If there is one overused trope in fiction, it is the eyes being the mirror of the soul. It is . Please don’t get me wrong. Expressive eyes are amazing. But I do find it over-used. How the eyes turned flat and gray, how the eyes were blue with excitement (Can eye color really change like that?) Also can the eyes show everything happening in another’s soul? The pupils dilated, the eyes red.

In reality, how often do we sit and observe another’s eyes? I am reminded of this experiment by Sheldon & Penny of Big Bang Theory fame

The Big Bang Theory – Penny and Sheldons love experiment S08E16 [1080p]

However, it is beautiful that we have an organ that allows us to experience our world in such a wonderful manner. In Andy Weir’s book, Project Hail Mary – he meets an alien species, from Erid in the Tau Ceti star system 12 light years from Earth, who do not perceive light. That made for an interesting premise – for they were an advanced civilization able to design space travel etc without sight.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_Hail_Mary

Anyway, where I’m going with all this meandering about light and sight is that, I was shocked to read that some underwater creatures do not perceive the color blue, and navigate a gray world instead. It made me sad for some reason – the blues are all we think of when we think of oceans and the lives it nurtures. How many shades do we have to describe the blues? Cerulean, Turquoise, Teal, Cyan, Aqua, Sky Blue, Royal Blue, Light Blue, Navy Blue and all the shades in between, and yet some creatures of the deep sea see none of that. Starfish, for instance, only perceive light as a vague form of light – they do not perceive differences in wavelength.

cropped-img_5618

Cuttlefish, with their pupils W-shaped – what do they perceive?

Seeing the world through another creature’s eyes can be rewarding, interesting and will make us more empathetic and passionate towards caring for our environment and preserving all the different kinds of life, would it not?

I might have made the goat whose eyes I stared into on my walk very nervous. You see? Ever since I read that goats have rectangular pupils, I am drawn to them. They allow me a moment to observe their pupils, then turn away bored. Interested in getting to that low-lying branch to eat.

One goat even gave me an amused look – I did not detect amusement in the eyes if that is your question, I saw the face quirking up differently and moving away as though shaking its head.

Books:

The Magic of Waves, Birds and Beach Theories

August rolled around, (and well, a week into August, ) I realized that I had not written a single post. As I racked my mind to see what I’d like to write about, I found my brain in a blissful state of blank.

You see, as August rolled in, we found ourselves welcoming the month lolling on beaches, in art fairs, and in friends’ backyards playing games, chatting and soaking in the summer sunshine. All perfectly pleasant, remarkably blaze, and highly recommended activities.

Wave Theories

One day at the beach, we walked – a jagged path dodging waves, chatting of wave dynamics and such. The predictions on the reach of small waves, vs the bigger ones proved to be a particularly engaging activity. It was curious to see how many times the smaller waves reached the farthest as though they didn’t believe in bravado and overt shows of strength, but simply did what needed to be done. The big waves made huge splashes, but fizzled out quicker. Very few were impressive in both size and reach.

It also led to some hilarious moments remembering old professors drone on about Wave Theory.

Bird Theories

We watched hundreds of seagulls take to the skies for no apparent reason, and come back together for the same reason.

Could there have been a call to duty that was rendered unnecessary?
Were there portals for the gullible opening? (Get it? Get it?)
How much we creatures need to communicate with one another.

Books at the Beach

I also found myself reading my first book by Salman Rushdie:Two Years, Eight Months, & Twenty Eight Nights

I found the book a good one to read at the beach: It feels possible to imagine jinns who made love with humans 800 years ago, and magic portals opening up to let the worlds in, while there. After all, there is an infinite sense of possibilities while lying calmly on a beach and reading.

Sand Castle Theories

After all, it is where we build sand castles, and let our imaginations run wild:

Could it be as a volcano erupting 300 years ago?
The moats around the castle could have been the battlefield of a thousand troops.
The secret passageways within the sand castles could be the architects way to ensure people could flee.

Oceansides and beaches may just be the magic we all need in our lives every now and then.

“The sea can do craziness, it can do smooth, it can lie down like silk breathing or toss havoc shoreward; it can give gifts or withhold all; it can rise, ebb, froth like an incoming frenzy of fountains, or it can sweet-talk entirely. As I can too, and so, no doubt, can you, and you.”

― Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings: Poems

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