Equilibrium
Equilibrium. A big word. An important sounding word, denoting balance, harmony and peace. Hard to imagine a world in equilibrium. Skyscrapers in Houston float in a state called isostatic equilibrium. If the engineers calculate the weight of the building correctly and the cubic footage of the hold for the foundation, the building stays put; if not, it will rise or sink accordingly. Just look at the sidewalks around them.
These bonus days must come in the fall and the spring as temperate ranges of the land and sea approach equality. I am no scientist, but the stillness--both natural and totally unnatual seeming--is rare and precious. Waters, normally swept with whitecaps in summer, in the southwesterly "fair weather" breeze that powers in nearly every afternoon, and in winter, arriving with a cold, moist punch from the northwest points on the compass are like a mirror. If they often appear feral and wild, today they are passive and reflective, windows into the sky above, or distant shores bouncing below the horizon in exaggerated stripes, distortions one sees in the Fun House of an amusement park, or even a tranquil inland lake, but not as often by the sea.
At night, I notice fisherman out trawling their nets, taking final advantage of the mild conditions. For weeks, there have been few boats at all, but now, they do not squander the opportunity to fish qith relative ease. Many of them will call it a year after this reprieve; a hardy few will tough it out all winter long. I see their lights criss-crossing the estuary. Since land and sea are so balanced, the view is strangely clear. I only wonder, how long can this last? Three days, maybe four, or five, at most?
Were there such a thing as pathetic fallacy and isostasy [cq definition of isostasy and equilibrium], would the powers of war and disharmony, greed and malace be silenced, could there ever be such a moratorium, we would all be the better for it. Days and especially nights such as these, more than Christmas for the Western World, should be called silent and holy nights. Equilibrium yields contemplative time, a moment for introspection. It is impossible to make enough of this.
These bonus days must come in the fall and the spring as temperate ranges of the land and sea approach equality. I am no scientist, but the stillness--both natural and totally unnatual seeming--is rare and precious. Waters, normally swept with whitecaps in summer, in the southwesterly "fair weather" breeze that powers in nearly every afternoon, and in winter, arriving with a cold, moist punch from the northwest points on the compass are like a mirror. If they often appear feral and wild, today they are passive and reflective, windows into the sky above, or distant shores bouncing below the horizon in exaggerated stripes, distortions one sees in the Fun House of an amusement park, or even a tranquil inland lake, but not as often by the sea.
At night, I notice fisherman out trawling their nets, taking final advantage of the mild conditions. For weeks, there have been few boats at all, but now, they do not squander the opportunity to fish qith relative ease. Many of them will call it a year after this reprieve; a hardy few will tough it out all winter long. I see their lights criss-crossing the estuary. Since land and sea are so balanced, the view is strangely clear. I only wonder, how long can this last? Three days, maybe four, or five, at most?
Were there such a thing as pathetic fallacy and isostasy [cq definition of isostasy and equilibrium], would the powers of war and disharmony, greed and malace be silenced, could there ever be such a moratorium, we would all be the better for it. Days and especially nights such as these, more than Christmas for the Western World, should be called silent and holy nights. Equilibrium yields contemplative time, a moment for introspection. It is impossible to make enough of this.
posted by Stonechuck at 12:48 PM
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