Sentences with phrase «strong kind of wave»

It turns out the energy in this whip - like process is high enough to generate Alfvén waves, a strong kind of wave scientists suspect is key to heating the sun's atmosphere and propelling the solar wind, which constantly bathes the solar system with charged particles from the sun.

Not exact matches

The current wave of dystopian young adult fiction, for example, serves the same kind of public liturgical function for progressive individualism as the New Year liturgy of Marduk's victory over Tiamat once did for a strong Babylonian kingship.

The challenges to culturing corals include generating the kind of multidirectional, strong currents created by waves and tides, which are necessary for reef organisms to thrive.

Whether this is a gimmicky attempt to lure readers or the wave of the future for digital publishing remains to be seen, but as always, this kind of innovation has a strong foundation with romance readers and the publishers who provide that content.

They have three different kinds of fiber in its wool: soft underwool (gentle waves and shine), awn fluff (crimped with a hooked end) and awn hair (guard hairs which are strong and straight).

, 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,

But as the saying (kind of) goes, one magnate's loss is another's treasure: Redevelopment opportunities for the massive deal seek to ride the wave of Dallas - Fort Worth's strong employment fundamentals by creating a property that targets a new wave of office workers by incorporating the most desirable office trends.