The full Moon, fifteen degrees above the horizon, its cold light diffused by thin clouds into a corona of four moon-diameters around it, & then a strip of cloud, black by contrast, moves downward across the disk, bisecting it, & for a moment it seems suspended between the clouds, no longer celestial—or is it that the heavens have swooped down to embrace the clouds?
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The frozen coachman
Catarina Dutilh Novaes’ item on literature and on what, thanks to her and to Helen de Cruz, I now know to call “moral…
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Plucks, warbles, blinking lights
(See Mohan Matthen, “ The sense of time passed”, at NewAPPS.) Is there a primitive feeling of duration? There are bodily feelings which…
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Famed scientist makes historical error
I know: “Dog Bites Man”. But I think it’s symptomatic. Source: Pierre D aguin, Traité élémentaire de physique ( 41879) 4:17 In The…
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