Thursday January 1st, 2015

The exercise:

Welcome to 2015! Write a little something about: making waves.

Back in our temporary home again tonight. Pleasantly surprised by how warm it was when we arrived around 8pm - I'm going to have to get these baseboard heaters properly programmed tomorrow.

Max had a fun and very active visit with Kat's parents this afternoon. Unsurprisingly, he fell asleep on the ride back to Kaleden. We almost managed to get him inside without waking him, but not quite. Thankfully it didn't take much to get him back down.

Looking forward to settling in here and not having to worry about going back and forth to Osoyoos for the next little while.


Out on the ocean there lives a man. I could give you more precise coordinates but it would do you no good - you will never find him. If you spent the remainder of your days looking for him, even if you lived to be three hundred, you still would never see so much as his shadow.

He is not a man who wishes to be found.

You may doubt his existence. I would not blame you. It is no easy task, believing something you cannot see or hear or touch or smell or taste. Perhaps it would help you to bear witness to the results of his work?

Come, come with me. Down to the shore, right to the very edge of the water. Perfect. Now, look out to the horizon. Do you see them? You must! They are everywhere, coming at us with endless enthusiasm!

No, not the birds. Are you stupid? Or merely playing a joke? I am not sure which I would prefer.

The waves, my friend. They are his creation. He sits upon his massive device, painted the color of the waters it rises above, and he sets them in motion. One after the other, after the other, and so on to infinity.

Why does he do it? What drives him? It is a mystery, one that will likely never be solved. Unless, brave soul, you dare to seek him out and ask him those very questions yourself...


Greg said...

Was your surprise at the warmth because you thought they were programmed to come on later, or because you thought they wouldn't warm the house so much? I've been told that you can get undercarpet heating; basically a mat with wire running through that can be connected to the mains and used to provide a facsimile of underfloor heating in flats and other rooms/places where digging up the floor is a bad idea, and I'm thinking about doing it, more to see how happy it makes the dogs :)
I quite like that there is someone in your world that actually makes the waves that we see when we look at water on windy days! Has Max been asking questions about where waves come from then? ;-) And it's beautifully described as well, with just the right touch of irritation in the narrator's voice when he detects disbelief!

Making waves
"Wave-particle duality," said Heston. He waved his hands agitatedly. "Like, metal is made of particles right? Atoms, molecules, they're all there and they're all mostly the same. Maybe there's an inclusion, some chromium and some carbon in with the iron so you've got stainless steel, right? But it's metal, and it vibrates. And when it vibrates, it makes a noise, right? And that noise is a wave, it's a wave made up by all those particles vibrating together, in harmony. And that's a phonon!"
"My chihuahua is called Buster," said Leonore. She held up a tiny white dog and flexed his paw so that he looked like he was waving. "Looking, he's waving to you!"
"But what if phonons are the baseline?" said Heston. He waved at the dog, feeling a little self-conscious. "What if everything's phonons, the waves are the basic components, and they make the particles appear when they interact? That would be interesting, right?"
"Buster likes chasing squirrels," said Leonore. She put the dog down on Heston's desk and started rummaging through her purse. "I've got a video on my phone of him chasing one."
"So I built this machine, right?" said Heston. Buster looked at him and he thought he saw sympathy in the dog's brown eyes. "It's a test. It breaks phonons. And if I'm right, if everything's waves and not particles, then it'll break things apart just by pointing it at them! Right?"
"Here you go-o-o-oooooooooo....."
Buster had sat down on the machine's control panel, and the big red button had neatly clicked into place, and Leonore had dissolved into a cloud in which odd little waves could be seen moving.
"Oh. Right." said Heston.

morganna said...

Detective Wilkes sat back in his chair. He felt puzzled. He had been back at headquarters a full day now, and everything seemed normal. But every time he suggested working on the case of Christopher Harrison and Emily, nobody wanted to talk to him. His partner had suggested a doughnut run, his supervisor had suggested some filing, and the department secretary had jumped up and run off, muttering something about needing the little girls' room. It was all very odd. Perhaps it was time to make some waves around here.

Peter Fletcher said...

Happy New Year!

Making Waves

There are always peaks and troughs. There always have been. The day he was born, the peaks and troughs seemed to be occurring simultaneously. The most wonderful event I have ever experienced seemed to mix almost completely with the feelings of fear and incompetence. As I started changing diapers and feeding him and rocking him to sleep, my seas calmed. The waves started evening out. With the exception of the odd storm here and there, the peaks and troughs became predictable and manageable. For the first few months, I thought the sea state was entirely his doing. I was so focused on him that everything else fell away. Although I was holding on, he was the one sailing the boat. As the world outside started creeping back in, the peaks rose higher and the troughs sank deeper. As he grew, gaining independence little by little, I realized that I had to hold the tiller wheel. I had, in fact, been holding it the whole time. I had been steering. If my ship sailed triumphantly over the waves or suffered punishing broad sides, it was my hand guiding us. I have come to the realization that, if this ship is to make it through all of the storms on our horizon, I must be a Captain. As he grows, he is learning the art of sailing. He is learning to steer his own boat. He is learning when to let the sails out and when to weigh anchor. He is also teaching me. Together, we ride high and proud on the peaks and work hard to make it through the troughs. Our seas may be rough at times, but as long as our ship is strong, we have nothing to fear.

Anonymous said...

Sounds like Max had a blast!

Making waves:

Tiny hands and bare legs wiggled through the water as shouts of glee echoed off the mint green tiles. Ginny’s eyes were scrunched shut and her mouth was cranked open into a wide, toothless grin.
“You like that, huh?” I whispered as I scooped handfuls of warm water onto her head and back. “You like the water?”
Another squeal echoed around me. I couldn’t help but smile at her splashing around in the bathtub.
I tickled her side with an outstretched finger. “You like the water, Giggles?”
I couldn’t hold back the laughter as she squealed yet again, this time getting water on me with the force of her movements through the water.

Marc said...

Greg - I thought they'd come on later, and not as high when they did. Clearly these genius machines have outsmarted me so far...

I feel as though Leonore will not be sorely missed. I especially liked that Heston waved back though, that's a great detail :)

Morganna - hmm, that is a rather strange development! I wish our dear detective the best of luck investigating this one.

Peter - and a happy new year to you as well :)

Oh boy, this one hits close to home. Some beautifully captured emotions and experiences here, and the metaphor works wonderfully all the way through.

Ivybennet - indeed he did :)

Aw! I've been there a few times myself. It's a good place to be.