Any time xes and ys are involved in a discussion, I mentally leave the room. It's a defense mechanism against the traumatic memories of being forced to sit through algebra and geometry in high school.
If I ever need to work out the size of a cheese wedge, it will come in handy. Thing is, this is what, GCSE/Grade 10 maths at most. It's not particularly advanced, it just takes some puzzling out. Just write out the known facts as an equation.
The grasslands of Australia have low levels of nitrogen, but the kangaroos have found a better source – golf courses. Nitrogen is regularly added to the green, where it is converted to protein. The healthier grass is perfect for golfers, and the kangaroo population, too.
It's about time the kangaroos reclaimed what was theirs. We don't need so many golf courses -- especially when you think of the people who actually play golf ... Racist, elitist, white businessmen ... remind you of anyone? I'll give you one clue: his initials is DT
Which of those groups does Obama fall into? While I am not a fan of golf myself, I do recognize that it is as much a social activity, as a game.
N.J. Berrill's You and the Universe (1958) is considered a "masterpiece of cosmic perspective." He leans towards pantheism with the following quote, which poetically says that "our material nature is the miracle itself."
Do cellphones cause brain cancer? A WHO review of 63 studies finds no link. A review commissioned by the World Health Organization found wireless technology use has skyrocketed, but brain cancer rates have not gone up accordingly.
A prolonged wet period known at the Carnian Pluvial Episode occurred around 230 million years ago during the Late Triassic period (between 237 and 201.4 million years ago). The rise of dinosaurs owes itself to this “two-million-year-old wet spell.” It brought significant changes to the planet’s climate and “transformed arid landscapes into thriving ecosystems.”
The next thing the T-Rexes did was shout "Yay, the rain stopped! Let's go out and dance in the mud puddles!" ... and so they did. The end.
I've always loved rain and gloom and fog and mist and all the atmospheric stuff. Snow and ice and wind. For one thing I learned early on that it makes movies and photos and paintings look way cooler and sets a tone. It aways makes me shake my had sadly to hear people talk about weather as if the only good day is a bright sunny warm day. They're not using their eyes or trusting their aesthetic sense. The atmospheric stuff is more pleasing in many ways. But of course it's easier to enjoy it from inside or on a porch with some protection.
I think that's it - rain always puts you in touch with a wider range of emotions. And it's in the rain that you can comfort yourself. Not to mention that rain holds promise - it makes things grow!
Water is the matrix of life, from which we emerged, it soothes and rocks you gently (if you're in a lake or a pool or the edge of the ocean), a gentle rain will lull you to sleep or into a trancelike mood. Watching water, either rain or lapping waves or the heaving surface of the ocean, can also put you into a trance or a dreamlike state,. It's a lot like staring into a fire. They both have a powerful rhythmic quality to them. They pulse with the rythms of life itself. We all lived immersed entirely in liquid for the first nine months, our bodies are spongey soft material always saturated with water, if it starts to dry out we're in serious trouble. The sea is the great mother of us all. Bodies of water in dreams (and in reality) represent the unconscious, not arbitrarily, but because it has the opaque reflective surface and beneath that are mysterious depths you can't see far into, where living things swim.
I used to like rain, too. There was something about the gloom that I loved. The way the mist shrouded everything and the rain tapped my windows and ran down the gutters. Plus I loved how little drops of it gathered and sparkled in the leaves. It was nice. But I don't anymore and I'm not entirely sure why. These days, I prefer it when the sun is out and it showers everything with its light. Colors are more vibrant and its less cold, too. I think its the UK rain. UK rain sucks. It's really mild and kind of boring. If it rains, it only does so lightly. In Greece, when it rains, the skies rage. The clouds roar with thunder, spawn lightning constantly, and flood everything with water. I still remember that one day in my village about 7 years ago. The sky was clear and tranquil. But in the distance there was this thick blue cloud. It was moving towards us. And within thirty minutes, it covered all of the sky. Then when it started to rain, it took just five minutes for the path in front of my door to turn into a small river. And I mean this literally. There were tons of water rushing down its slope, exactly like a river. When it happened, my father was swimming in the nearby sea. And because it was so sudden, he had no time to get out. He almost drowned, but he fought the currents and survived. I really like Greek rain. My parents are genuinely terrified from it.
I think it rains a lot there, doesn't it? Yeah, if it rains too much I'd get tired of it for sure. It hampers your ability to go outside and do things, and the pleasant effects of the atmosphere wear off when it's too frequent. Plus you have a lot of negative associations with England or the UK in general, that probably got all tied into the rain (and the British food).
Very poetic and lovely! Thank you! I've always liked the water. I still go 4-5 times a week to the community pool (we have a fantastic facility) and when I am in the water all my stresses disappear. The weightlessness, the silky texture of the water against my skin, the movement of my arms and legs in symmetrical motions, all feed my brain with feel-good chemicals!
The power of nature is awesome to behold. The darker the skies turn, the more they churn, the more we watch them, as if arrested by the sight. Is it a reminder of our insignificance?
Ah yeah, the weightlessness! How could I forget that! And the usually pleasant sensation/smell of breathing the extremely moist air, unless of course it smells like dead fish. There used to be a (I don't know what to call it—country club, health club?) near me called Oak Hills where they had a nice big pool they'd cover in the chilly months with a big inflatable bubble tent. A friend of mine had a membership and took me there as his guest a few times, and it was always quite a sensation stepping into that pressurized dome and feeling the movement of all the air as the water sloshed around in the pool, and the moisture and smell of it. It's like the air itself is saturated with water, and moving like water, and you're now entering a water world.
Recently the title of an article caught my attention, "Scientist's Say Wormholes Are Altering Our Reality." I haven't yet taken the time to fully read it, only skimmed so far. And, though it doesn't appear to be at all about the Mandela Effect, it got me thinking such a thing might be exactly why the effect has occured in the first place. Just food for thought.
