Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Light on Darkness

Winter Solstice
Shines on barren boughs.
Soon, longer days of sunlight
A promise we cling to
Impatiently.

Twenty-five thousand years
Or more
Celebrating the evergreen
The warmth-giving Yule log
Joyously.

Was peace among the hopes
For the coming year?
Or did Yuletide chants
Echo life’s endless repetition
Darkly?



Thursday, December 3, 2015

The Beauty of Experiencing Science in Our Lives

I think of scientific properties of the cooking process. Isn't it a delight to see the beauty of scientific (and mathematical) concepts in the world around us? The physical properties of liquids like water when they near their freezing/solid point or steaming/gaseous point. The way that salt acts as an emulsifier for a perfect vinaigrette. The way that leavening agents change the behavior of wheat flour. The way that the flavors of herbs are released with the use of oil. And what great good fortune that a well-balanced meal can be described as one in which there are many different colors. How did that come about? How is it that sauteed tomatoes, yellow squash, green bell pepper, and red (purple) onion, combined with a little oregano and basil, can make such a delicious, nutritious, and pretty dish? What in the evolution of food and humans led to this reality of good nutrition as a color palette?
I live near mountains, a salt-water bay, and an ocean. Major Pacific Coast earthquake fault lines form a dense network here. The mountains are all the more beautiful because I can see how the movement of those faults gave rise to pressure that gave rise to the mountains. I marvel that scientists say, we know less about our oceans than we know about outer space. How is this possible? This makes the oceans mysterious, but they are more beautiful to me to the extent that I can appreciate their "scientific" properties. The pressure at great depths, the utter lack of light, the (delicate) ecosystems, the way that evolution demonstrates its randomness in the adaptations of sea life to its environment. 

The analogies to understanding science for me are the way that those with a background in the fine arts can see so much more in any painting and the way that those with a background in music can hear so much more in any musical performance. We all have access to feelings about the food we smell and eat, the artwork we see, and the music we hear. But each of us brings the potential of a special delight when we also have domain-specific knowledge of the theories and concepts and techniques that apply to each.

Not everyone wants to apply what they've learned to their everyday experience. They prefer to read a novel for the action in the story, not the themes and metaphors they learn to understand in literature studies. Not everyone who studied geometry appreciates the geometry of nature and everyday objects. In fact, not everyone with the means to do so even attempts a multi-color meal on a regular basis. Amazing!
I'm whether it's nature or nurture that makes us curious and observant, draws us apply our existing knowledge of biology or literary criticism, critical thinking or music to the world we are experiencing. I'm a scientist.