http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/night-stars-clouds/

Looking down felt like looking backwards.

Backwards in Sysha’a life. She was 15 when she first came here, bussed out from her rural hometown after a wave of disease took most of her village, including her parents. She was terrified. The stories from the light farms were as varied as the colors that pulsed through the ever-present fog. But then it didn’t seem so bad, not at first. She was given a bed, a trunk, a job and the standard wage of a line sorter. One night, years later, she realized the dull walls and rotating cast of bunkmates had become familiar, and she’d started to refer to it as “home” in her inner dialogue. She’d nearly vomited from the thought. From that moment, every thought was based on planning her escape.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/man-walking-snowy-bridge/

It was the sound of the sled that got him. The half-crunch, half-slice of the dull blades meandering across the not-quite-frictionless surface. The brief absence of sound when it hit a perfect patch of ice and could glide silently for just a moment. Or maybe it was the sled’s weight. How could it be possible for an empty sled to be so much heavier than one with a rider?

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This is a continuation of the March 11 story. Read the first installment about another One of the Men in Red and then read on below.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/snow-people-walking/

Relany thumbed her phone nervously. She’d never done anything like this. It’s not that she was categorically opposed. Why would she be? It’s just that the situation had never arisen. In the abstract, it always seemed an easy decision. But now that it stared her in the face, previously unthought-of consequences creeped into her mind.

What if he’s crazy and attacks me? What if it’s some kind of sting operation by the police? Though that seemed pretty far-fetched. The crazy part did not, except she’d been following the guy, quite by coincidence, for ten minutes. Since before the Seeking Snow began to fall and his bag began to change.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/surfing-underwater-waves/

Eryn was the last on duty when the bell sounded from down the beach. She rubbed her face and laboriously stood. With a creak, she pulled open the door of the wooden watch shack. Late afternoon sun poured onto her tanned skin and the beach beyond.

She dug her feet into the sand and looked out toward the water. Fifty, sixty yards out, the sea churned. The waterfolk wanted a word. With a sigh, she grabbed her board and marched into the warm surf.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/fireflies-stars-night/

Fireflies and Starry Skies

Hide images in the false lines
Between our bodies and our minds
Our light’s supposed to glow and shine
Look up, reflect and know this time
To you we must look so close
To us, we are distant and alone
We’re stars, we’re supposed to have secrets
You only need to ask, and we’ll keep it

So
We heard you were looking for help
Anyplace but where you know well
Are you truly coming so undone?

No
The right guy never wins the good fight
But the night sky never looked so bright
We know you’re not the only one

See images in the cracked lines
Between one flash and the next time
Our light’s supposed to flicker
Capture us, make your wish or
Don’t. We won’t hold it against you
There’s no way we were ever meant to
Fireflies are starlight weakened
Bottled up and maybe you’ll see it

So
We heard you were looking for help
Anyplace but where you know well
Are you truly coming so undone?

No
The right guy never wins the good fight
But the night sky never looked so bright
We know you’re not the only one

http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/building-water-moss/

She was still elegant even with the cracked paint and frayed boards. Her bow was still tall and proud, and it sliced effortlessly through the calm water. Irregular piles of fog, ever-present on the Vague Sea, swished silently around the old ship’s worn hull.

“How do they navigate?”

“I’m sorry?”

“When it’s cloudy. Don’t they normally navigate by the stars?”

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/robber-fly-macro-insect/

Headmaster,

Unfortunately, the situation with the chimera flies has only worsened in the last 72 hours. I have, however, dug up some information that I believe can help my attempts to sort out the issue.

Five days ago, Meks Domi attempted, as part of his mid-term project, to transform a basic fruit fly into a level-4 Kamikaze Fly. No surprise, he was unsuccessful. The result was 3 chimeras. Those chimeras began to either breed with or eat-and-convert the flies on the grounds.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/girls-fan-summer/

Museum of Medicine
Special Exhibition for Spring
Stars of Stage & EKG Screen – Music Remedy in the Last Half-Century

Introduction

Music has always had a curious impact on the human brain. since time immemorial , it’s been used by mothers and mid-wives the world over to soothe crying children, by love-stricken teenagers to woo one another, by grown men to express profound emotion. Centuries before the invention of the printing press, stories were memorized and re-told by traveling singers known as troubadours. It is a vast understatement to say that our lives are inexorably intertwined with the music that weaves through our days, months and years.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/traditional-dancing-phuket-thailand/

Drums preceded the parade. Before the head dancers even appeared, the crowd lining the route in the capital’s Arch City could feel the thump of the approaching percussion. It was a slow beat, deep enough to be felt in the chest. Excitement rippled through the gathered audience. And then the dancers rounded the corner.

It wasn’t the country’s biggest festival. But the parade was impressive nonetheless, led all the time by the driving, incessant beat of the tireless drums. Even the foreign dignitaries had to admit that, for a second-tier festival, this was a wonderful display.

“Do I have to admit it?”

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/underwater-girl-jellyfish/

Jellyfish Ponds Spa and Shock Therapy – About Us

The statistics are startling. Nearly 4% of Americans under 30 suffer from some form of Antipathosis. That’s nearly 4 million of our best and brightest who experience, in some form, an incapacity to connect their own experiences with those of the world outside them. They do not, can not, feel or process emotions in the way their peers do. It’s a terrible way to go through life. Traditional mental health therapies can help, but it’s seldom enough.

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