The wonders of the micro, the wonders of the macro

Greetings for the hot season.

Here, it's the season when tiny birch seeds fly, scatter, and dance. The fruit scales, shaped like cliones, and the winged seeds are scattering profusely.

Birch seeds, also known as samaras, have tiny wings, are light, and can travel great distances.

Through the open windows, they ride the wind and drift into every corner of the house, with no regard for boundaries.

The bathroom floor is covered in birch seeds in just one day.

Even when barbecuing, they land precisely on the surface of the meat and vegetables being grilled.

(Child: "It's stuck to the meat!" Me: "It's fine, it's fine! It's safe to eat. (Probably.)")

In this short summer, from tiny young leaves, nature is already showing its resilience and precision in producing results.

(I, too, am making progress this summer, having completed about 70% of the exterior painting, a project several years in the making.)

I work while glancing at the birch seeds that fly and stick to the "wet paint" warning signs, carried by the wind.

What are the chances that among so many seeds, some will sprout green leaves and root themselves in the soil?

Some, without even touching the ground, make an emergency landing on barbecue meat and then dive into a human stomach. Others are semi-permanently embedded in green paint. Still others are washed down bathroom drains or sucked up by a Dyson vacuum cleaner... Ah, how cruel?

Speaking of probabilities, there's a curious story about the moon that I read in a book during my shaded reading. The topic jumps to space.

"Haven't you ever wondered why the moon perfectly covers the sun during a total solar eclipse?"

At first, I was baffled by the question.

But then I was thrilled by the words:

"That phenomenon occurs because the moon is one four-hundredth the size of the sun, and at the same time, it is located at a distance that is one four-hundredth of the distance from Earth to the sun."

It was as if something I had always taken for granted suddenly looked completely different. As if some will were at work.

When I excitedly told this story to a 16-year-old boy, he responded, "Is that a conspiracy theory?"

Another probabilistic surprise came when I was reading a different book.

In 452 AD, Attila, king of the Huns, invaded northern Italy, and the Roman Empire faced a crisis. Pope Leo I traveled to Lake Garda, met with Attila, and persuaded him to withdraw.

The phrase "Lake Garda" caught my attention. Just a few days earlier, Andreas from Germany had mentioned that the Italian lake he was visiting was indeed Lake Garda, wasn't it? (More details are in last month's news.)

I got excited all by myself, thinking, "That's it!"

I even peeked at Lake Garda myself on Google Street View.

Many interesting summer discoveries, surprises, and fantasies visited this homebody who rarely leaves the property except for the bare minimum.

There might still be things I'm looking at but haven't noticed.

However, if the intense heat in Japan makes you see things that shouldn't be there, please take a break somewhere cool.

In that case, I recommend a trip to Italy, Lake Garda, via Google Maps, in a cool room. It's beautiful. (Even though I've never been there.)

Please stay well, everyone.

*The quote about the moon's mystery is from Father Novak's words in "The Maze" by James Rollins / translated by Ken Kuwata.