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Across the will of Nature Leads on the path of God; Not where the flesh delighteth The feet of Jesus trod. O bliss to leave behind us The fetters of the slave, To leave ourselves behind us, The graveclothes and the grave. We follow in His footsteps; What if our feet be torn? Where He has marked the pathway All hail the briar and the thorn! Scarce seen, scarce be heard, unreckoned, Despised, defamed, unknown Or heard but by our singing, On, children, ever on! ↗
A male frigate bird blows up a wild red pouch on his neck. He can keep it puffed up for hours. It is his way of impressing the girls. ↗
I remember when we found the first population of living Cerion agassizi in central Eleuthera. Our hypothesis of Cerion's general pattern required that two predictions be affirmed (or else we were in trouble): this population must disappear by hybridization with mottled shells toward bank-interior coasts and with ribby snails toward the bank-edge. We hiked west toward the bank-interior and easily found hybrids right on the verge of the airport road. We then moved east toward the bank-edge along a disused road with vegetation rising to five feet in the center between the tire paths. We should have found our hybrids but we did not. The Cerion agassizi simply stopped about two hundred yards north of our first ribby Cerion. Then we realized that a pond lay just to our east and that ribby forms, with their coastal preferences, might not favor the western side of the pond. We forded the pond and found a classic hybrid zone between Cerion agassizi and ribby Cerions. (Ribby Cerion had just managed to round the south end of the pond, but had not moved sufficiently north along the west side to establish contact with C. agassizi populations.) I wanted to shout for joy. Then I thought, "But who can I tell; who cares?" And I answered myself, "I don't have to tell anyone. We have just seen and understood something that no one has ever seen and understood before. What more does a man need? ↗
Looking upwards, she speculates still more ambitiously upon the nature of the moon, and if the stars are blazing jellies; looking downwards she wonders if the fishes know that the sea is salt; opines that our heads are full of fairies, 'dear to God as we are'; muses whether there are not other worlds than ours, and reflects that the next ship may bring us word of a new one. In short, 'we are in utter darkness'. Meanwhile, what a rapture is thought! ↗
Near below peak of mount Merbabu in Java, there is a forest known as the devil market. I had been there once. And when you are there, you will sense the crowd, voices of nothingness. Your mind will say it is just accustics effect of the nature, but your heart will tell you something totally different. ↗
