Enchantment
Enchantment is that feeling of great pleasure and attraction because something is wonderful.
Consider dragonflies. Dragonflies have two complex eyes on either side of their heads, each with thirty thousand lenses. They have three more eyes, each with a single lens. They can detect everything from UV to near-infrared light. Dragonflies operate in a multi-hued, technicolor dream world of light. They are enchanting.
Consider my dog, Echo. Echo-dog has several different modes of locomotion. She coordinates all four paws differently depending on her mood and desire. Each leg moves independently when she strolls among the bracken, sniffing rabbit trails. When she trots busily ahead on hikes, ears up, tail high - the foreleg on one side moves in tandem with the back leg on the other. When she sprints for home, she stretches and bounds forward, reaching with her forelegs, powering off her back legs. It fascinates me to watch her shift gears on the fly automatically. Echo is enchanting.
Consider ospreys. Osprey fish in pairs. They cruise the shoreline in the high sun, separated horizontally by thirty feet. They scan the water for signs of movement, for a fish to flinch. The shadow of the lead bird spooks the fish, and they jump. The trailing bird is already diving talon-first. She splashes, grabs the fish in any way she can, and rises with her catch. She shakes the water off her feathers in flight. At a safe height, she drops the fish and catches it again - re-orienting it to a streamlined fore and aft position - head forward - rather than the awkward crosswise position it had when she caught it. They fly back to the nest together and feed the babies or share the meal with each other. Ospreys are enchanting.
Consider electrons. In quantum mechanics, fundamental particles are packets of energy whose motion is a probabilistic wave. Detection of the particle changes the probability of its subsequent motion. You cannot detect a fundamental particle without changing its subsequent motion. Here is the weird part, though. If you shine a beam of electrons through two narrow, closely spaced slits, an interference pattern results. It shows the wavelike probability distribution of electron motion. If you shoot one electron at a time through the device, you get the same interference pattern after a few hundred shots, even though there is no way for the electrons to know where the previous shots landed or to interfere with their motion. It gets weirder. Suppose now we shoot one electron at a time - we get the expected interference pattern - but now we detect which slit each electron goes through. Upon detection, the interference pattern collapses and is replaced by two vertical lines - the electrons now act classically, like particles or grains of sand - not waves. Think now that everything you touch, smell, see, hear, and taste - the entire universe - and you, too - are made of packets of wavelike energy that precipitate into particles upon interaction with - detection by - the surroundings. Particle physics is enchanting.
Consider the planet Jupiter. It is a gas giant made of molten hydrogen and helium. It is 547 million miles from Earth, and, by volume, it is 1321 times larger than Earth. Its diameter is 11 times Earth's. It has four moons. Despite its huge diameter, Jupiter rotates once every 9 Earth hours. Rotational speed at the equator is 45000 km/hr - an incredible 28000 miles per hour. The winds in the permanent red spot storm in Jupiter’s atmosphere blow between 270 and 425 miles per hour. The storm itself is twice the size of Earth. It is said that Jupiter may rain diamonds due to the extreme heat and pressure. Jupiter is enchanting.
Consider the Universe. The laws of physics and the initial conditions of our Universe are fine-tuned for existence. It turns out that, for the Universe to exist, the numbers in basic physics – for example, the strength of gravity, or the mass of the electron – must have values within a certain range. And that range is an incredibly tiny slice of all the possible values those numbers can be. The odds against a universe like ours that is compatible with life are astronomical. So, why does it exist? Some say God, some say random chance, and some say the Universe itself is conscious and selected these values for itself. I say the Universe is enchanted.
This little substack newsletter is called An Enchanted Vagagond because everywhere I look, no matter how big (The Universe) or how small (an electron), I can find enchantment. Wherever I look, if I dig deep enough, I can find pleasure and attraction in the presence of wonder. John Muir wrote:
“When we contemplate the whole globe as one great dewdrop, striped and dotted with continents and islands, flying through space with other stars all singing and shining together as one, the whole universe appears as an infinite storm of beauty.”
In my best moments, I see as Muir did—the Earth, an osprey, a dragonfly, and Echo-dog as interconnected miracles—the whole shitaree sparkling, alive, and mysterious.
In these days of clang and clamor, when too much dire news is forced on us, with violence and lawlessness ascendant and decorum, respect and decency in short supply, it is imperative to take a moment to look out the window, stroll through the grass, breathe deep, clean air, and rest for a moment in the enchanted world. Enchantment is the antidote.
Next week we’ll explore the meaning of “Vagabond”.
Peace.
An Enchanted Vagabond will always be free to read and enjoy. You can support my writing habit with a subscription or the tip jar below. Thanks so much for reading.