Sentences with phrase «wild winds and waters»

But, between 1900 and 2012, they concluded that humanity's temperature - changing influence paled in comparison with that of the intense natural fluctuations of the wild winds and waters of the world's largest ocean.

Not exact matches

I want to stand outside here in our Canadian wilds beside the water, banging my old battered pots and pans into the wind and the cold and the heavens, hollering, «There is more room!

Rango Starring the voice talent of Johnny Depp, Isla Fisher and Ned Beatty Directed by Gore Verbinski (Pirates of the Caribbean) Rated PG for rude humor, language, action and smoking Appropriate for ages 8 + When an eccentric pet chameleon separates from his owner and finds himself stranded in the desert, he winds up in the town of Dirt, a rundown Wild West outpost with a water shortage and no sheriff.

He had to tolerate wild fluctuations in temperature; last 24 hours without water, if necessary; and bring down wounded animals.

Whether you want to kayak through swamps, catch marlin off rocks, watch the sunset over the ocean, sail in the Mediterranean, explore numerous surfing locations, swim in a Fijian lagoon, sunbake in the Caribbean with pure white sand and turquoise water, float in fabulous rock pools, hike through wild country, stroll on long deserted beaches or stand on massive, wind - blown cliffs, Currarong has a location nearby to fulfil your aspirations.

Hold your breath and splash the day away as you race through the twisting, winding water slides and drift on the wettest and wildest RC circuits!

, 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,

What's the difference between building wind turbines on expropriated property and doing the same thing for a new oil / gas pipeline, oh yes the wind turbine doesn't create an environmental disaster that destroys the surround properties, wild life and ground water that takes generations to become usable again.