Dear Houston, does the waterbug skittering at the bottom of the pond, searching for a meal or a lay, think that the waterlogged cardboard box floating saggy on the surface is a small planet or a constellation? Is the plastic grocery bag an Oort Cloud? When the waterbug rolls helpless in underwater currents that she can't understand, is the swirling dust, and feathers, and leaves, a whirling Milky Way to her? Is the audible rumbling of the highway the voice of the universe?