The Chicken and the Egg

I lie on my back, looking straight up through the sky to the stars, to the nearby galaxies, to the clusters and superclusters of galaxies, to the optical limit of the Universe, which is the farthest distance from which light is transmitted to Earth.

I am hanging upside down from a tree. On a sunny day, the temperature near the ground can be as much as 20 degrees hotter than only a couple of feet away from the Earth’s surface.

I lie face down, looking directly into the flat curve of the earth, searching every grain of dirt and sand for the memory of its past.

I stand upright, one arm above my head, spinning a ball on the top of my finger. I experience the sublime sensation of controlling and being controlled by two rotating spheres at either end of my body.