Sentences with phrase «really running out of water»

Tell me we're not really running out of water!

Not exact matches

As far as safety is concerned, this model has a programmable automatic shut - off feature, which is really nice so you don't have to worry about creeping into your little one's room in order to turn it off when it runs out of water.

Eventually I increased my fats to 60 - 70 % of my diet, and now I can easily run three hours, (aerobically of course,) with no food and no fluid (including water unless it's really hot out).

Sherman has really come out of his shell lately and has enormous confidence; I'm crossing my fingers that means he will run right into the waves (unlike Lucia, who just likes to wade in the shallow water and refuses to swim).

Our house was in a rural part of Pennsylvania and was not really a house at all but a wild castle built into the burnt - out ruins of a nineteenth - century silk mill, and our backyard was not a regular yard but a meandering meadow, with a creek running through it and wild geese living in it and a Death Slide cable that ran from high on an oak to the bank of the stream and deposited you, shrieking, into the shallow water.

The house AC is lacking, we ran out of gas during the middle of cooking an expensive meal, and the water stopped working a couple of times (issues expected on a small island) but really inconvenient with 11 people and toilets that wouldn't flush for 6 hours for a couple of days.

, you are lying on the floor of your place looking up, a small draft runs through the room, between the door and the window, and all things seem perfectly still, wind only disturbs concrete in imperceptible ways, or it may take millions of years to be noticed and, as the air runs through the space, all your plants move and all is animated and all is alive somehow, and here are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, and that wind upon your plants is the common air that bathes the globe, and we have no ambitions of universalism, and I'm glad we don't, but the particles of air bring traces of pollen and are charged with electricity, desert sand, maybe sea water, and these particles were somewhere else before they were dragged here, and their route will not end by the door of this house, and if we tell each other stories, one can imagine that they might have been bathed by this same air, regrouped and recombined, recharged as a vehicle for sound, swirling as it moves, bringing the sound of a drum, like that Kabuki story where a fox recognizes the voice of its parents as a girl plays a drum made out of their skin, or any other event, and yet I always felt your work never tells stories, I tend to think that narrative implies a past tense, even if that past was just five seconds ago, one second ago was already the past, and human memory is irrelevant in geological time, plants and fish know not what tomorrow will bring, neither rocks nor metal do, but we all live here now, and we all need visions and we all need dreams, and as long as your metal sculptures vibrate they are always in the Present, and their past is a material truth alien to narrative, but well, maybe narrative does not imply a past tense at all and they are writing their own story while they gently move and breathe, and maybe nothing was really still before the wind came in, passing through the window as if through an irrational portal to make those plants dance, but everything was already moving and breathing in near complete silence, and if you're focused enough you can feel the pulse of a concrete wall and you can feel the tectonic movements of the earth, and you can hear the magma flowing under our feet and our bones crackling like a wild fire, and you can see the light of fireflies reflected in polished metal, and there is nothing magical about that, it is just the way things are, and sometimes we have to raise our voice because the music is too loud and let your clothes move to a powerful bass, sound waves and bright lights, powerful like the sun, blinding us if we stare for too long, but isn't it the biggest sign of love, like singing to a corn field, and all acts of kindness that are not pitiful nor utilitarian, that are truly horizontal as everything around us is impregnated with the deadliest violence, vertical and systemic, poisonous, and sometimes you just want to feel the sun burning your skin and look for life in all things declared dead, a kind of vitality that operates like corrosion, strong as the wind near the sea, transforming all things,

As we watch the sun go down, evening after evening, through the smog across the poisoned waters of our native earth, we must ask ourselves seriously whether we really wish some future universal historian on another planet to say about us: «With all their genius and with all their skill, they ran out of foresight and air and food and water and ideas,» or, «They went on playing politics until their world collapsed around them.»

On the question of hurricanes, the theoretical arguments that more energy and water vapor in the atmosphere should lead to stronger storms are really sound (after all, storm intensity increases going from pole toward equator), but determining precisely how human influences (so including GHGs [greenhouse gases] and aerosols, and land cover change) should be changing hurricanes in a system where there are natural external (solar and volcanoes) and internal (e.g., ENSO, NAO [El Nino - Southern Oscillation, North Atlantic Oscillation]-RRB- influences is quite problematic — our climate models are just not good enough yet to carry out the types of sensitivity tests that have been done using limited area hurricane models run for relatively short times.

«As we watch the sun go down, evening after evening, through the smog across the poisoned waters of our native earth, we must ask ourselves seriously whether we really wish some future universal historian on another planet to say about us: «With all their skill, they ran out of foresight and air and food and water and ideas,» or, «They went on playing politics until their world collapsed around them.»»

Water Conservation Really Works: Quenching a Desert City's Thirst Without Running Out of Water

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