Three Blind Men and an Elephant

It's raining outside. Great big, fat, happy drops from the sky are plopping into every puddle on every roof I see, sending spires of water reaching back to the heavens. It's been raining a lot lately.


As a physicist I think "what a gorgeous demonstration of Newton's third law this is; the impulse of the falling drops makes the puddle jump up when they hit."

As a chemist I think "water has a pleasing viscosity. I see that it quivers when disturbed due to hydrogen bonding."

As a biologist I think "I wonder what bacteria is living in those puddles at the moment."

As a poet I think "this is very... uh... metaphorical." (OK, so I'm not feeling poetic today, deal with it.)

As an artist I think "the shimmer of light across the waves on the puddles is beautiful."

As a juggler I think "this is shit. It's been bad juggling weather for ages."

As a survivalist I think "proof! The end is nigh. It's global warming that's doing this and pretty soon we will all die from it!"

As a pragmatist I think "it may take a while for my clothes to dry now."


What you do in life affects the way you think. By the way, I am none of the above.