Whistle while you work

My tinnitus is irritating. The sound screeches my thoughts to a halt, like an emergency brake on a train. It’s like having a jet taking off next to you, but you can’t put your hands over your ears to soften the deafening whine. It hurts your eyes, and makes your stomach sick. Sometimes I forget I that have it and I think that a pressure wave explosion has been detonated near by, and that I need to seek shelter. I think one day I’m going to wake up to the same pitch, but it’s going to be coming from a hospital machine.

Aha!

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Meeting minutes of the p-brane

The thought that three thimble thumbs thatch this thorny threat, surely superimpose suede surfaces; such summoned suits shall share sheepishly short shoes. Should sharp, shimmering, shallot shapes ship shaking shin splints, splurge splashed splinter. Spray specially spun sparkling springs spanning space, spreading sparks sprung splendidly.

Fruition

Two plants recognize that they can only throw their life force short distances, so they grow fruit as an idea to use the animals to help spread the seed. The first plant spends less energy in making its fruit, and more on the seeds. The bountiful influence of the seeds was lightly draped in a thin skin of mush,

This fruit from the first plant is eaten by a monkey. The monkey gets a stomachache from the fruit, has trouble passing the seeds, and decides to try fruit from the second plant. The second plant spent more energy in making the fruit extra sweet for the monkey to enjoy, and made sure that the seeds were not too big, and wouldn’t get stuck. The latter plant’s seeds were spread over a greater distance than the former.

Best or worst case scenario for evolution?

Two plants compete for resources in the desert. A rock falls over both. Surely this means death for both plants. The first plant gives up, and dies. The second plant grew around the rock, and populated the desert.

Those beautiful pines below me call out with the whispering sound of the sirens, as their green majesty hides deathly spikes, that would permanently ensnare any falling climber in a sharp, sticky, tary, tomb. What a carnivore of a plant.

Have you ever looked at a tree?

With her branches spiraling upward with glee.
She grows her arms in Fibonacci coils, just like the stars above her fertile soils.
Look how her arms raise up into the sky, balanced for wind, ready to fly.


Her leaves, constantly turning, yearning for the sun’s burning love.
Delicately twisting each branch, to match the rhythm of the dancing fireball above.
Opening her arms to greet the warming sun, she produces flowers, and the bees hum.