Wednesday, July 16, 2008

a time for every purpose

The marbles spilled into the floorboards of a four door sedan, a white automobile with burgundy upholstery, the car the pride and joy of the parent or grandparent or aunt of either the owner of the marbles or a friend or the new kid two years ago. These marbles are not so much lost, since their physical whereabout is tightly constrained in a new container, several times larger than the glass jar, but every bit as definite in physical boundaries. The presence of each and every marble is felt, heard, experienced at every shift in elevation, velocity, angle, and balance in the car. The marbles are gone, but just beyond the first fringe of physical experience, since they offer conclusive proof of the continuity of their existence at regular intervals. They are there, just not quite within grasp.



reading
If only I could lose track of time.
wisdom of Pete Seeger
article on string theory in physics [Annals of Science | current New Yorker]
and the calendar

weather full moon over the mountain