I'm hoping to write a series of posts about Stephen Jay Gould's Wonderful Life: The Burgess Shale and the Nature of History, which (against many odds) I should finish tonight. Previously I wrote about my impressions of the first two chapters. The later parts of the book, thankfully, delve into the details of the weighty philosophical abstractions Gould tossed around in the first chapters, and suggest many interesting ideas--about the roles of biology, history, and (not to be melodramatic) human existence.
Here's to hoping that I'll have time to put down some thoughts about at least a few of of those ideas. For now, this observation: St. Louis is on the very edge of spring. None of the oak or maple trees have leaves, giving an initial appearance of solid winter, which may or may not have been foretold by a small Pennsylvanian rodent several weeks ago. (Who really cares?) But the earliest pink magnolia buds are slowly opening, and the suburban Bradbury pear trees are developing the white buds that will soon douse the atmosphere in a strange, fertile, pungent smell. Thunderstorm systems are expected to sweep through the metro area tonight and tomorrow, and perhaps their rains will draw a few more buds from hiding.
