Blizzard

Blizzards, like everything else, are not what they used to be. Oh, snow and wind remain, but consequences tend to be trivial. In 1888, a Long Island blizzard killed hundreds, caught unexpectedly in the fields after a warm spring day. In my youthful 1950s, extended electric outage had my mom chopping up furniture to keep the fireplace going. The current “historic” blizzard of 2026 didn’t even bring down many trees, cause extensive disruption of electricity, close roads more than a day, much inconvenience shoppers or let children have a holiday .

It’s a quite robust world for things that we can prepare for. I not only do not complain, but am in awe at how truly competent our society can be. Not only blizzards, but also other disasters, plagues, and extended patterns like drought, famine. War, of course, remains. And the stubborn, if limited, evil of certain individuals .

Anyway, for a day or so we all enjoyed a true frisson of dangerous disruption. All the better because reality turned out far gentler than imagination. We are quite spoiled .

I try to emphasize that all the time. To be grateful for the normal, the calm, the taken for granted. Glory in how much lives have truly improved for many over the last few centuries. For a little while, to truly embrace the miracles of economic progress .

Millions

My dental hygieneist tries to scare me into flossing better by saying “there are MILLIONS” of bacteria on your teeth. I am not impressed. All numbers are relative, and this is a little like exclaiming “that brick is chipped!” when viewing a high brick wall a mile long.

“Millions” of bacteria, after all, are not the same as “millions of harmful bacteria”. And there are just as many or more body cells dealing with them. A minor thing that we have evolved to handle.

And, in context, millions doesn’t mean all that much. After all, I have over 30 TRILLION cells, and an almost equal number of quiet or symbiotic bacteria, not even mentioning viruses. A few on my teeth – relatively well-defended against as part of my outer membrane – hardly much to worry about .

We are an alarmist culture, always looking for “news” which is naturally not “ordinary”. We take for granted how well adapted we are for “normal” life. We worry as soon as some obscure tidbit is brought to our attention. This has become a culture with very little perspective .

I know that things can go wrong. I may get sick. At some point I shall certainly die. But I’ve learned it hardly serves my sanity to be alarmed all the time, often about things of very little immediate consequence .

Like those millions of tiny creatures in my mouth .

Snowstorm

In this colder than normal winter, another large snowstorm has covered the area. It gives me a chance to reflect on my luck in living when and where I do .

Aboriginal inhabitants of America are often pictured in summer, and described as inhabiting Eden. Early colonists are shown as snug in log cabins. But in fact there was illness and famine, rarely enough heat, and little to do but wait out the season and hope for spring. Even a hundred years or so back there was often no electricity .

I now inhabit paradise. I expect there to be constant warmth, light, entertainment. Too much food, always fresh fruit and vegetables. Medical aid reliably available. People think it’s a great inconvenience to be “stuck at home” for even a day .

Until ten years or so ago I had to shovel a large driveway, but now I just walk behind my machine .

It’s always good to appreciate the best times, the finest weather. But perhaps it is more appropriate to give thanks for our technology and civilization when the natural world is less kindly. This morning I certainly do so .

Medical Crazy

Evolutionary nature is cruel and capricious. The only thing that matters in evolution is reproduction. There are lots of complicated ways for a species to achieve that, including various instincts and even altruisms. But an organism that achieves too great a success will overpopulate and die off. Highly successful strategies that worked for millennia can be destroyed in an instant of bad luck as happened to the dinosaurs .

Until recently, although some humans may have dreamed of “threescore and ten”, most adults died by forty, and most children did not become adults. Old women past menopause would have lost all evolutionary reason to exist were it not for the “grandmother theory” that they promoted culture and advantage to their genetically connected tribe .

These days the pampered masses have lost all sense of gratitude for the scientific miracles surrounding them. Most children do not die before becoming adults. Most adults live past forty. Many can extend prime years to eighty and beyond .

Instead it is a litany of how awful things have become. More children with problems (instead of being dead!), more adults with pain and incapacity (ditto!). Everyone thinks they should be a vibrant perfect thirty-five years old forever .

Nature always disagreed, and still does .

Vision

Each one of our senses is miraculous and far more complex than we usually give credit for. I hesitate to claim I am primarily “visual” because I truly celebrate them all, but I am often greatly aware of what I see and how I perceive it .

Anyone who gives a moment of thought is amazed at colors, and lines, making sense of the environment by constructing objects in depth. Keenly tuned to any movement. Able to instantly assemble a worldview of depth and perception when we glance around. Focusing on anything for fight, flight, or manipulation. The list is endless, and there is no need to expand the craziness by trying to explain the mechanisms of the eyes, nerves, and brain .

My vision naturally works with everything else. If I hear a noise, I automatically try to see what caused it. Before I eat I view each morsel. When I walk I use my internal visual mapping to aim my steps and avoid bumping into things.

And I am somewhat frustrated when my eyes cannot help . The wind and cold surprise me. Internal issues scare me. Other times I use eyes unconsciously as when I read and my mind ignores all the intermediate processing from printed symbols to dreamlike thought .

Incredible. Miraculous. Instantaneous. Always available. And – unfortunately – prone to errors, incapacity, and age .

Beauty

Like ” wrong”, beauty is one of those concepts that can never be simply defined. It depends not only on environmental and cultural factors but also on the mood of the observer. We can often agree, but almost as often argue with others and even with ourselves .

It’s fairly safe to say that even considering beauty requires a sense of security within the observer _ you can hardly appreciate the loveliness of a forest while being chased by a bear. . Whether something is beautiful or not occurs way down on the scale of evolutionary fight or flight. A great deal of the time, most of us hardly notice it at all .

We assume that – like other odd traits – there must be SOME biological reason we can respond to beauty. Perhaps it helps social solidarity. Perhaps it is a shortcut to relaxation. Certainly nothing obvious .

I have noticed that in my own life the idea of beautiful has evolved as I age. When young, it was primarily biological. When older, mostly cultural. And now, in an elder, much more simply appreciation of all that is and how it fits together. A miraculous and – yes – extremely beautiful universe .

At least when I am happy, secure, and not doing too much .

Light Lessons

My wife usually gets her hair “done” in a salon,. When she gets home, there are inevitable complaints that it “looks different”. Of course – the lighting is changed .

There have always been different light effects – sunset, noon, overcast. And artificial from candles, gas jet, incandescent. In the era of LED, any “temperature” of red or blue or green or yellow mixture can be served up, bright or dim .

We deal with all this amazingly well. Red usually looks red. A landscape picture resembles itself in almost all conditions. But that should indicate to us just how amazing our vision is – both raw data gathering and interpretation .

Painters always knew this. Patrons who bought things done under “Northern light exposure” in studios rarely hung their purchases under similar conditions. Poor artists’ dimly lit barns had different lighting then when the work is hung in a brightly illuminated museum. And forget trying to recreate the conditions of “plein aire” .

My lesson is that much of our life is like this. We may think things are exactly the same, but only because our brains automatically adjust to what are objectively quite different events. It’s part of our amazing ability to compose and generalize, the core of our knowledge.

Not quite obvious, and easy to ignore. Until the hair looks entirely different …

Age and Tide

There are multiple ways to turn any natural observation into a metaphor for our lives. Having lived near the sea for most of my life, I am well aware of tides. Age often leaves us casting about for glimmers of cosmic understanding wherever they may occur.

The most famous metaphor is of course King Canute, ordering the tide to cease. A symbol of the uselessness of trying to prevent the inevitable. More deeply, a warning of how stupid it looks to attempt what common sense knows is impossible .

But there is also the idea of ebb and flow, high and low, translated to good times and bad. There will be in any life joy and pain, both of which usually pass one to another in a complex but inevitable rhythm .

For an older person, however, there is yet another lesson, which relates to deceptive normality. The high water mark is indicated with only minor variations day to day and season to season. But suddenly that can change in storm or tsunami, and rage well beyond what we thought we understood as limits. Leaving behind destruction and _ of course _ death .

So here we are, metaphor in hand. Is this next problem merely a usual tide or something worse?

It’s easy to become anxious when the predictable breaks the rules .

Learning to See

Seeing seems completely obvious to us, but computer researchers have discovered just how weird it is. We combine binocular vision with experience to create objects – some as they are, some different, some imaginary. Nothing is really “objective” or “true”. More than that, we constantly select and focus. Our vision keeps constantly shifting second by second. We learn to find what is relevant to us. A hunter sees signs of prey or movement in the grass. A developer or general maps terrain to possible advantage. Artists look for patterns that are beautiful or interesting .

When I start to sketch, after a period of inactivity, the first thing I notice is how odd my results are. Stuff seems the wrong size or color. Nothing matches what would be on a photograph of the same view .

Ah, that’s a modern dilemma. Old paintings, especially pre-renaissance, had less strict rules – or the rules were different. Important people, for example, were usually larger than less important people. Certain conventions – “city walls” for example – were almost pictograms. Oh, some work was magnificently “realistic” – cave paintings, Roman mosaics, Chinese flowers and birds. But all saw in certain ways, and accepted certain conventions .

As do I. My sketches try to become more and more like photographs. I resist the tendency fiercely, but I am losing. That tension actually provides a lot of entertaining, engrossing, fun.

Lines and Shadows

Art instruction books often begin by stating “there are no lines in nature.” Which is obviously, annoyingly, both true and false. “Nature” may not have a horizon “line” drawn where earth meets sky, but people certainly perceive that line. As do their mechanical devices .

So beginners always start with lines. Kids outline flowers and houses in their first drawings. Stick figures, on the other hand, are abstract ideas of people like Mommy or Daddy with important bits – torso, limbs, and head – largely symbolic.

Shading is just as strange. Mostly we perceive shadows as darker shapes, but impressionists found them more real by adding colors .

The point of all this is that very little – even human basic perception – is quite as simple as it appears. This has been driven home lately by how much trouble computers have interpreting visual information like boxes in a pile .

Beyond that, things like lines and shadows require some concentrated imagination which is one of the reasons most of us like drawing and other visual arts. Not because it is “true” but because it is “fun” .

No lines in nature. An awful lot in our heads .