OMGSUN. also wow, the earth is both very tall and very deep. also poetry.
the sun came out, the temperature climbed into more normal heights (as in, i don't need a jacket), it seems to be really and truly and honestly spring-almost-summer, and i have a headache. >.< damn you, barometric pressure.
check out this infographic of the earth's topography, from the altitude of a standard airplane all the way down to the bottom of the mariana trench. also including the tallest mountains and buildings, the mile-high city (ie, denver), the depth of the deepwater horizon blowout, and the final resting place of the titanic. heights are also measured by how long it takes to boil an egg (about eighteen and a half minutes at the top of everest, to about three and a half in the empire state building). nifty!
happy towel day, all you hoopy froods. :D
have a poem.
In the small towns along the river
nothing happens day after long day.
Summer weeks stalled forever,
and long marriages always the same.
Lives with only emergencies, births,
and fishing for excitement. Then a ship
comes out of the mist. Or comes around
the bend carefully one morning
in the rain, past the pines and shrubs.
Arrives on a hot fragrant night,
grandly, all lit up. Gone two days
later, leaving fury in its wake.
For Susan Crosby Lawrence Anderson
--"South", by Jack Gilbert
check out this infographic of the earth's topography, from the altitude of a standard airplane all the way down to the bottom of the mariana trench. also including the tallest mountains and buildings, the mile-high city (ie, denver), the depth of the deepwater horizon blowout, and the final resting place of the titanic. heights are also measured by how long it takes to boil an egg (about eighteen and a half minutes at the top of everest, to about three and a half in the empire state building). nifty!
happy towel day, all you hoopy froods. :D
have a poem.
In the small towns along the river
nothing happens day after long day.
Summer weeks stalled forever,
and long marriages always the same.
Lives with only emergencies, births,
and fishing for excitement. Then a ship
comes out of the mist. Or comes around
the bend carefully one morning
in the rain, past the pines and shrubs.
Arrives on a hot fragrant night,
grandly, all lit up. Gone two days
later, leaving fury in its wake.
For Susan Crosby Lawrence Anderson
--"South", by Jack Gilbert