by Carol Casey The path is trodden, dusty, level.You know it will take youwhere many have gone. Step off—tangles of brambles,sometimes with blackberries,more often with little clawsthat catch on clothes and skin;and tortuous tree roots—inconvenient, sacred data unearthed—subterranean snakelets somehowsifted into snarls for feet to catch.There are stems that twine…
by Emily Strauss —a mysterious invisible substance called dark matter: astronomers have been forced to confront the possibility that most of the universe is invisible, and that all the glittering chains of galaxies are no more substantial, no more reliable guides to physical reality, than greasepaint on the face of…
by Emily Strauss Fremont Cottonwoods (Populus fremontii) In a high wind their branches crack together like the bones of a skeleton marching by day near the river deep within the red stone maze the leaves shaking like nervous hands fluttering at the window, sick with worry that the men will…