Comet's Gift

There come moments when physical constraints of existence are dissolved by cortical simulations of reality, we call imagination and desire. Like the desire to fly over a swan river. The shot on this page was an unexpected gift during a late-winter hike by the river Huron.

When the snowflakes give in to Earth’s gravity and start covering its surface with their soft unique ice crystals, the planet transitions into a monochromatic wonderland. Immersed into a meditative silence created by snowflakes soaking up the rustling sound of lonely winter leaves, and the creaking noise of the yearning branches of hibernating trees. Nature renders an image of its past ice ages, and what is to come for the Universe after its inevitable heat death in a distant future. It reminds, water exists only as ice everywhere in the Universe except on this precious moist rock. The landscape in monochrome magically blends one’s senses of impermanence and eternity together into the present moment of one’s existence.

An image is painted with photons that originate in our star's core before spending 100,000 years to reach its surface. After another eight-minute voyage, the photons illuminate an object on the Earth and reflect. Then they enter an imaging device through its glass and hit the sensor to paint the image. The image then goes through millions of processing cycles in a camera's processor and the photographer's development machine to render what we finally see. That is the story of photons! Images on this page are about the creator of those photons that bathe our planet every morning.

Over millions of years, neurons teamed up and formed the cortex of our brain. Cortex allows abstract thinking and unnatural yet fully natural actions like contemplating the cortex itself. Eventually, human cortex "highjacked" evolution form the planet! The images on this page are about whims of that cortex.

At certain point in evolution, neurons showed up. Along came the unbelievable abilities to believe, love, cry, and empathize with other neuron owners. This was a turning point for our planet. While silently nurturing them, it became a hostage of those neurowners somewhere along the way. The images on this page are about those neurowners.

They came long before we did. Learnt how to feed the world by capturing energy from photons. And all that while enchanting us with their magical friendship with the butterflies and birds and the blue sky with pelican-white cloud. The images on this page are about those Green Sages.

It worked on the primordial energy fields, bit by bit, to form all that we see around the Universe today. Like an alchemist, it first transformed energy fields into particles. The particles are fused into elements to create stars, nebulae, galaxies and us, the sentient beings on this moist rock. The alchemist then worked as a sculptor to chisel out beauty, the very notion of which it also formed within our neural chemistry. It is Time, the great sculptor, is continuing to transform and sculpt nature in front of our eyes at a scale that our brain was not evolved to fully comprehend. We can perceive the sorcerer’s work only after millennia are passed over its creations. Never have I felt Time’s work more intensely than while standing in a sea of magically sculpted red rocks of Northern Arizona during a recent trip. This page captures some of my experiences of Time’s work there.

A river’s incessant flow, ethereal beauty, and unconditional support for life had endowed it with a rich metaphorical place in literature. River’s flow is often likened with time due to its irreversibility and a sagely indifference it exudes towards everything around. On an overcast late summer afternoon, while hiking by the river Huron, I chanced upon an abrupt transformation of the river within a short stretch of only a few hundred feet. While flowing in a gentle meditative mood, young Huron suddenly finds herself in the embrace of a group of feral rocks and pebbles. She responds with the passion of her fierce current and wild rapids around the lush green offsprings of a fertile summer. The result was a beautiful display of courtship between a seductive wild river and the world around her. I was able to capture a few of those moments and put together an edit with one of my all time favorite cello pieces - The River Cam.

Contemplating astronomical objects and their dimensions is known to be corrosive to one's self-perceived importance in a cosmic context. A season of pandemic-triggered lockdown which prevented going out in the nature led me to explore the world of imaging the nature above. Why image an astronomical object? The look of it has not changed over millennia, already imaged millions of times from this planet and from space, and often with quality that an amateur astronomer can only dream of. It is, I found, not the image itself, but the awe it inspires by the feeling of being able to look into millions of years back in time, and distances that our brain had not evolved to be able to fully comprehend. I am learning to fall in love with the intoxication of the sense of being part of something whose vastness can let one's ego dissolve into insignificance! No one expressed it better than Carl Sagan in his book Pale Blue Dot. Astro-imaging is an enduring test of one's patience and perseverance that demands countless nights under the stars, with crickets, mice, deers, badgers and many other living parts of the Universe.

All major languages relied on our moon as a metaphor to create odes of dream, love, and softness. Its liquid yellow-whiteness covers oceans and mountains while mellowing human emotions into expressions. The cycles and phases of this rock had provided cultural references and influences for human societies throughout history. Its influences can be found in language, calendar systems, art, and mythology. Moon also majorly influences our climate by stabilizing Earth’s axial tilt, which is responsible for the seasons. Without moon, climatic extremes caused by seasonal irregularities may have prevented life from evolving on this planet. From a distance of quarter of a million miles, moon also contributes to our oceans’ tidal cycle, which transports heat around different parts of world’s oceans and impacts evolution and speciation of life. The satellite is receding from us about 1.5 inches every year, making the days and nights increasingly longer by slowing down Earth’s spin. This page contains a few images of our Dreamers Rock!