Time travel. I think it's why we have these brains, to think about time travel. Not thinking about time travel every day is sort of like having electricity and sitting in the dark. Oh, that's a terrible analogy. Ok, more like having legs and never walking. There are all the great campy movies, and the opportunity to think hard. And, we all spend much of our time doing that: thinking about the past, wondering about the future. (Me? 98 percent time travel. 2 percent on my yoga matt.)
Messages in bottles. What's not to love? That someone took a bottle with a cork -- and that's quaint right there -- but they decided to mail someone a message by way of the ocean, and it's often a sweet message full of hope and love. Arrgh. A tiny tear leaks out when I think too hard about that. Why choose the ocean? Oh right. Probably because the ocean has been so generous with us. And is also full of hope and love, not to mention octupuses and seals.
Amnesia stories. I will confess that these were more compelling when I was 20 and had a great memory, when forgetting seemed so implausible. But when I hear stories about people who turn up in Dallas, for example, with no idea who they are and how they got there, well, that stops me in my tracks.
| Or this tomato, that announced "NO". Photo stolen without permission from The Cake Boss |
Amelia Earheart. Duh. I love imagining that she flew into some weird vortex-y tessarect and is alive in another dimension.
DB Cooper. Of course. Who does that? Jumps out of an airplane with wads of cash?
Renditions of deities that appear, unannounced, in tortillas. Emphasizing yet again that we see what we want to see.
Finding mushrooms in the woods. Because that's magic, to go on a walk and see a giant orange orb popping out of the ground.
Honeybees. For the obvious reason that they live in extremely tight quarters and get along, always rowing together in the same direction, building comb and making honey.
