Many of the patterns he created in his work were associated with his experiences during his years growing up in his prairie state, Nebraska. The land, the people and the institutions left an ineradicable mark upon him and colored what he did.
Smith A Mad Hatter's Refuge: After pursuing interests in the synthesis of organic natural products, unconventional approaches to science education, sociology and epistemology of science, and academic culture and strategy, he has recently turned to nature and literature.
Read other essays in Weber Studies by Robert B. The furious Chihuahua, bug-eyed and pointy-eared, yapped into the night whenever agitated by the breeze. An instant companion when I discovered loren eiseley essays for scholarships, she elicited my empathy when the spring rains left her disheveled and relieved my anxiety when the dry summer air renewed her robust health.
Through months of buffeting by wind and rain, the beast kept her integrity, continuing to yelp as the wind whistled through the fragile fall foliage. But whenever a sharp gust momentarily lifted the top of her head—calling to mind a familiar Monty Python animation—I was abruptly brought back to reality.
This was, after all, merely a strikingly realistic shadow-picture silhouetted against the evening sky by five contiguous branches of the hawthorn tree above my hot tub.
Still, the illusion persisted into the winter, when defoliation stripped the poor creature's flesh, but left just enough skeletal structure to provide the recognizable outline of a canine skull. Fantasy it may have been, but the experience linked me with the natural surroundings of my back yard, a reminder that however much we humans domesticate and distort the natural world to our own ends, both we and our manufactured environment remain part of nature.
Too often I forget this point and, like most city-dwellers in our terminally urbanized nation, fall prey to the impoverishing assumption that to recapture a sense of nature, I must escape from home. I have nothing against fleeing to nearby mountains, remote deserts, or faraway islands—I've done it many times as a way to distance myself from the artificiality of daily urban life.
But for most of us such excursions are necessarily too infrequent to sustain a continual awareness of the natural phenomena on which our lives depend. Certainly, the city's hustle and bustle, its noise and crowds obscure such ties; but there is a time when the tumult dies down.
It happens every night. This idea crystallized for me during closely juxtaposed readings of two classics: Each characterized a decisive aspect of contemporary human behavior—aversion to night "…today's civilization is full of people who have not the slightest notion of the character or the poetry of night, who have never even seen night….
Coincidentally, I was already acquainting myself with both Ogden nights and a familiar tree-rimmed yard by soaking briefly in an open-air hot tub each evening before retiring.
I had found this decadent practice demonstrably effective as a stress management tool, but perhaps a remnant Calvinist conscience demanded still further justification. So, capitulating to my work ethic, I was using the few minutes in the tub each night to examine systematically whatever surrounded my comfortable perch.
For a year I recorded my observations, driven largely by simple curiosity about what a passive observer might see, hear, smell, feel, and learn by focusing on a familiar setting from an unfamiliar point of view.
Somehow, my curiosity about the world had survived grade school, to be reinforced by later research training. Then, toward the end of a brief scientific career, I began to concentrate on getting into the minds of earlier generations and reconstructing their ways of looking at the world.
The cover of darkness proved a marvelous vehicle for pursuing that agenda. By year's end the sky, the weather, the changing landscape, even neighborhood animal life had become much more than dim backdrops outside the range of porch lights or abstract conditions periodically addressed by television reporters.
They were now integral parts of my existence. Observe with me sample glimpses of each of these environmental features—fauna, flora, weather, sky.
Start with animal life. Given the prevalence of domestic pets, this might seem the most unlikely source of inspiration for an urban naturalist. The error of that assumption dawned on me suddenly one memorable midsummer night.
The previous evening had been cool enough to warrant raising the tub's thermostat slightly, and the first of Cassiopeia's stars had peeked through a cleft between tall trees to the northeast. But I missed the message of these portents that an annual milestone approached. Consequently, the crickets were upon me without warning, abruptly surrounding me with their deafening chorus.
By their second nightly performance, competing with 24th of July holiday fireworks, it seemed as if they had never been away.
Night after night for three months the cricket choir sang on. Their anthem was hypnotically monotonous, but I never found it boring. The subtleties in their multipart harmony were always informative. The key is knowing that the pitch, or frequency, of a cricket's sawing depends wholly on the temperature of the air immediately around it.
A folk formula says count the number of chirps in fourteen seconds and add forty to arrive at the Fahrenheit temperature. Coerced by the exact temperatures of their individual stations scattered about the yard, crickets buzz at their own discrete pitches.
Their frequencies are similar enough, however, that like a jazz combo their instruments pass in and out of synchrony, cyclically reinforcing each other in unison, fading into a babble of mutually interfering solo passages, then reuniting as one voice.
I began to understand how crickets attained legendary status in Mormon country. I was hearing only a normal resident population, nothing like the historic infestations that have brought occasional misery to Utah farms and towns.National character essay guardians loren eiseley essays on friendship.
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Loren Eiseley, English, anthropology, geology, was an anthropologist and writer. more Morgan Montgomery, English, is part of the coaching staff of the Nebraska School of Gymnastics program.
She was active in community and social justice organizations: a co-founder of the Gathering Place, house of hospitality and soup kitchen; co-founder of Friends of Loren Eiseley. Eecs uci research paper loren eiseley essays online. Narrative essay on abandoned house kumpulan dialog giving opinion essay no dissertation doctorate code cal bernard maclaverty essay essay on missouri river tributaries problem solution essay video dissertation sur les romanciers naturalistes words to write an essay quotation terrorism essay.
In order to understand the achievement of Loren Eiseley, one of the finest essayists America has yet produced and one of our most neglected major writers, one must look back to the 17th century and introduce oneself to Eiseley’s great predecessor and model, the English physician Sir Thomas Browne.