ABSTRACTS (continued)
THE SCIENTIFIC ENTERPRISE
LUDICROUS
A PATTERN LANGUAGE
BEACH PEAS
TWO MERE PEOPLE,
PARTED
THE MILKY LIGHT OF TRUTH
IN YOUR TRAVELS
ROUGH-CUT MEADOWS
SEEING IS FAR
FROM KNOWING
A DAMASK TABLECLOTH
THE WELL-FORMULATED
QUESTION
THIMBLEBERRY CANE
VIEW LATEST WORK
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 demonstrably the sign of a vulgar mind. '))
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 like these are set down with machine precision, so superior and yet so miniature after all and in fact ultimately futile, set down in rough-cut meadows or trackless forests beside a howling sea, in the gorgeous and unfathomable wilderness of the universe—with a kind of bravery, to be sure, and yet, one suspects, a kind of incuriosity. Is this not the personality type, and indeed the predicament, of modern science? We know nothing. And there is nothing to know (least of all in our lawns), except our selves. And in the end our selves, happily, are nothing, too. E ma ho! The sage finds her joy, too, and her home, in rough-cut meadows. '))
, and like Mr. Socrates, the longer I live the more I see preponderantly my own ignorance, which amounts to saying that everything I tell you these days is more richly informed, perhaps, but even more richly empty—and knowing, too, that the only Destination worth understanding is the one I cannot yet consciously recall or foretell. '))
 are mysterious in their rich presence; they move like a damask tablecloth, opulently, or a shaft of sunshine across a dusky parlor. I gaze back at them and I am gone, then—whisking over a brook where it opens marshy into the shallows of the sea. '))
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