Buzzing your pocket:
infinitesimal worlds,
yours to discover.
How to turn a smartphone into a digital microscope
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
Bonus Poem!
At the Triangle Inn
Morning light outlines
the ceiling vigas. Adobe
walls begin to glow.
Cuyamungue breathes
the crisp high desert air like
lovers sighing dawn.
Oct 12, 2013
Morning light outlines
the ceiling vigas. Adobe
walls begin to glow.
Cuyamungue breathes
the crisp high desert air like
lovers sighing dawn.
Oct 12, 2013
Daily Science Haiku - Li-Fi
Light reaches your eyes;
you see. Light reaches laptop;
you see the whole world.
A plan to turn every lightbulb into an ultra-fast alternative to Wi-Fi
Note: Sometimes, poems just fall on you. No sooner had I posted yesterday's haiku than a link to this article arrived in the MIT LinkedIn feed. Go figure. So I wrote the haiku and saved it. This morning, all I had to do was click Publish.
you see. Light reaches laptop;
you see the whole world.
A plan to turn every lightbulb into an ultra-fast alternative to Wi-Fi
Note: Sometimes, poems just fall on you. No sooner had I posted yesterday's haiku than a link to this article arrived in the MIT LinkedIn feed. Go figure. So I wrote the haiku and saved it. This morning, all I had to do was click Publish.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Daily Science Haikus
While my father-in-law was here visiting last month, he mentioned that he writes a couplet to his fiancee each morning. This got the back of my head thinking, Hey, why don't I do something like that? And then I thought, a bit more consciously, hey, why don't I write a haiku every day about science and post it on the Facebook page for Einstein's Workshop? So I began today with a haiku about Titan and meteor impacts. I'll also be posting the haikus here.
The hardest part of this, by far, was finding just the right science news to write about. I cruised the NYTimes, ScienceNews, Scientific American, boingboing, Laughing Squid, and finally found the right article in New Scientist. I'm rather bummed that I missed Ada Lovelace Day on the 15th. I may write something about her tomorrow anyway, because I can. And I may put the birthdays of every great female scientist in my calendar so that I can immortalize each one as they go by. But that's all a lot of work, so I'd also appreciate suggestions. If you see a very cool science tidbit (or you've just published something cool and want it promoted), let me know.
And now, today's haiku:
Wetlands on Titan?
Meteor impacts erased
by hydrocarbon swamps.
http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn24430-astrophile-soggy-bogs-swallow-craters-on-titan.html#.UmPRRRDaM-A
The hardest part of this, by far, was finding just the right science news to write about. I cruised the NYTimes, ScienceNews, Scientific American, boingboing, Laughing Squid, and finally found the right article in New Scientist. I'm rather bummed that I missed Ada Lovelace Day on the 15th. I may write something about her tomorrow anyway, because I can. And I may put the birthdays of every great female scientist in my calendar so that I can immortalize each one as they go by. But that's all a lot of work, so I'd also appreciate suggestions. If you see a very cool science tidbit (or you've just published something cool and want it promoted), let me know.
And now, today's haiku:
Wetlands on Titan?
Meteor impacts erased
by hydrocarbon swamps.
http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn24430-astrophile-soggy-bogs-swallow-craters-on-titan.html#.UmPRRRDaM-A
Sunday, February 24, 2013
The Bridge, in February
2/24/2013
The masts, vigilant
as bare winter trees,
anchor the base of the bridge
where it rises, bowed and becoming,
from Beverly to Salem.
Snowflakes scatter
along the pavement.
To the east, the gaudy dome
of a natural gas repository
squats awkwardly among
dormant sailboats and trawlers.
To the west, the railroad runs
alongside the bridge like
a tag-along younger brother,
eager and impatient to be off.
Gulls wheel, cormorants bob,
empty docks rise and fall with the
tides.
At low tide, men and women
encased in rubber to their chests
stride along the muddy bay floor,
buckets and shovels in hand:
clamming.
All this glimpsed
in a moment of paradox:
concrete in air above sea.
Then down the graceful curve
into Salem and the embrace
of civilization.
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