Here is a magic trick. There is a bulldozer, you see it?
Abacadabra, now you don’t!
Later mother nature, having preformed this trick quite a few times, got bored and did a little finale by knocking the dozer over like a top-heavy vase.
The old lore tells of spirits in the sky, dancing and twisting across the constellations, and of their voices which you could hear if you listened close. I cannot help but wonder: if they were spirits, what stories might they tell? What battles, what peoples, what changes, what still points in the slow turning change of the world?
I wish I could find words to say the feelings of standing under the northern lights, the sense of motion of their dance against the inky black void punctured by the glittering points of starlight, but I can’t; a picture must do.
I add something that I have already done to my monday morning to-do list, lending it a benign and friendly aura.
Whenever I hear somebody say “darn it!” I think to myself “old socks!”
My science students have been practicing weather observation and some basic forecast. They check out the current barometric pressure and the predicted barometric pressure for the next day and they write a weather forecast.
Yesterday they predicted bad weather today. Right now, it’s foggy, rainy and snowy, windy, and some of the really big waves I can see hitting the south end of big diomede (southerly wind means the big waves hit the south sides of the islands) are crashing well over a hundred feet high.
Success.