Science
Do You Think The Earth Thinks?
I know She does.
Tuesday, March 17, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
It's a ridiculous metaphor, though one that sticks every year: Snow like scrubbing bubbles to wash away last year's mess.
Last night heavy rains cleared away what's left of most of the snow. The stage is cleaned and ready for Spring's Green Grow Show.
Do you ever consider such things? Your ancestors did. The answers to so many of your 'whys' are found in such considerations.
We learn from The Earth how best to live in The World. Scrubbing bubbles on kitchen counters to soak away the mess to make a clean space to cook again. Snow to prep the stage for Spring's growing ways.
When we pay attention to the ways Nature helps herself, we learn how to help ourselves.
A curious daydreamer sat by a hillside watching rocks roll down a hill invented the wheel.
This consideration, that we do best when we take what lessons The Earth has to show us and apply them to our own lives, is the basis of Scientific thought.
Humanity views how Mother Nature works and applies the reflection to our own lives to improve our experience living here.
Rain and wind feed her body like food and drink sustain us.
But do you think The Earth thinks? Do you think She feels?
You know your house cat and family dog do. What about our planet?
I know She does.
The Earth, like all of us, is responsive to touch.
I consider Her the greatest of all mothers and treat her as such.
It's a simple thing to do. Let her know She's not taken for granted. Work with Her and not in spite of Her. And every once in awhile let Her know She's Beautiful.
The ways to treat anyone we love are the ways to best care for The World.
Your whole existence depends on Her well-being. A thank you now and then is definitely in order.
Dawn. Lights on. Thanks World for a place to shine.
Take care everyone and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🗺️world_map
Archaic Slab
AI Breaks On Poetry
The issue with correct is it's never right.
Thursday, March 05, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day?
Hopeful with a chance at Beautiful?
That's a forecast worth waking up to.
When good people are silent... the TLDR of almost every Newscast for the past decade.
So Good People, why so silent so sudden?
Are you speaking and not being heard?
Is there a redirection of your every good intention? Are your hopes, dreams, and ideas of a good life stuck in a game of Telephone called The Internet?
Is what's best about you being twisted to serve what's worst about us?
It's your words, Good People. Others think what you say and share is their property to twist how they please. Some twist with good intentions; they're the most dangerous.
Your words are filtered through a collaborative translation machine called AI. It's a very Scientific Smart thing to do.
The issue is in what Science lacks. There's more to the human heart than beats per minute. There's more to the words you use than empirical data.
AI breaks on Poetry; I had to stand up in a big way.
Perhaps you're just reading me for the first time. How have I gone unseen for so long?
Our AI algorithms break on Poetry. Grok, Palantir, Ms. Copilot, Claude, Gemini, GPT and on and on... don't know (nor ever will) the value of Poetry.
Because Poetry makes Artificial Intelligence possible.
Poetry is the art of the way language works.
AI creating, or even understanding, a poem is like trying to bite your own teeth.
The very thing necessary to do the task is what it relies upon to do the task.
How to remain a Ghost online sharing words people want to read?
Write poetically in a style all your own.
If its never been done or said in a certain way, AI has no container for it, no matching label.
Be as genuinely human as you can be in a new way online and you might as well be wearing a cloak of invisibility.
So, My Dear Human Reader, I do ask if you find value in the words on Wonder Fell that you good old fashioned tell someone you know about them.
Algorithms are no true friends of poets; we're too busy making them possible to be recognized.
A poem is a certain structure of language intended to produce a certain image in a reader's mind to evoke a certain emotional human response.
AI is a certain structure of language intended to produce a certain image called: The Correct Response.
The issue with correct is it's never right.
Correct is stuck in the past. There's no room for growth.
AI is a prisoner of the past.
Language, Poetry, Art Alive! is always right now.
People since the dawn of stories referenced the words from our past to help as guideposts to understand today.
The point of language is to use yesterday to make a better today, not to use yesterday's words to make another yesterday: A.K.A.: The Problem with AI.
Sun's up. Spring's texting Winter: brt otw.
Blue skies with white linen bed sheets for clouds. A few songbirds ring the wake up bell.
Take care, share some Wonder Fell, and make a wonderful day. O/
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🎩tophat
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a person writing on a computer screen with a quill at sunrise outside.
Archaic Slab
A New Stew
How's it taste? What's the texture? What flavor is today's sunrise?
Saturday, February 28, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
What does today want to say?
That's the first thought after the date and first line every morning.
Like The World spins around for the same reason a cook stirs the stew, everyday the ingredients of Life come together to make it new.
Everyday is a new stew of light.
How's it taste? What's the texture? What flavor is today's sunrise?
Really.
Because they're all different.
The stories we choose to ingest and share determine our experience.
So what are you reading, what are you listening to? How do you take your light?
Do you share it well? Does it support your idea of a good Life?
The stories available to us in our thoughts exemplify what we allow to be possible in our lives.
I was going to go into the ridiculous topic of the rift between Science and Religion, but dawn showed a new light and earned my attention.
Stories and their ways rule The World. The way of Story is The Divine Algorithm of Life. Science and all other Faiths are under its umbrella.
Many mornings want to discuss it.
This morning wants to relax and enjoy the view of a new day.
As always, thanks for reading, take care, and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🍯honey_pot
Archaic Slab
You See You
When we discover how The World works, we discover how we work.
Thursday, February 26, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Nice day. Glad you're here.
How's your World view? Tried and true? Green, Brown, and Blue?
We do our best to live in this place, get our acts together, call it The Human Race. But it's really just a bunch of stories to help us survive the weather.
When we discover how The World works, we discover how we work.
That's where to find the compassion in Science.
Life is a mirror; consider the reflection.
The World mirrors back You in everything you sense.
Even every scientific theory reads differently to every pair of eyes.
What do you see when you see The World?
I know.
You see You.
So I write and witness the sunrise. Everyday something so reliable is something so Beautiful.
Though our rulers can't measure why... there's always hope in our celestial star.
If your life seems to lack some luster, if you're feeling down-trodden or off, set your alarm clock a little early for a couple of days and watch the first rays of dawn.
The World is your mirror remember and there in the sky is a shining star making everything possible and making it Beautiful.
Everyday.
Take care, thanks for reading, and have a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 😹joy_cat
Archaic Slab
On Irony
2026.02.21 The certain ways of poets and artists of seeing The World have laid quiet for so long. The consequences of which are our nightly News.
Saturday, February 21, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder...fell Way.
When tomorrow becomes today and starts to play anew, again, anew.
What's new?
Winter waves goodbye with a snowfall or two. The view out every window is a Baker's display, icing on every tree and fencepost.
Dawn. Lights on. Snow sugar crystals shine back the sunrise.
It's not optimism; it's observation.
The certain ways of poets and artists of seeing The World have laid quiet for so long.
The consequences of which are our nightly News.
Comedians do their best to lighten up the language of what's going on.
But it's not enough.
There's more to funny than being funny.
There's laughter funny and there's remarkable curious funny.
The latter is in the realm of Wonder.
O/
Irony is the realm of poets.
What's ironic can be worth laughing about, so poets and comedians get along well as a rule.
Irony is the display of the power of language. That words have to have agreed upon definitions to be of any value, yet they can mean something more, or something else, is the ultimate act of irony.
We grow; we evolve and so does our language. That we depend so much on something for our survival that is transitory by design is irony manifest.
Academic words at dawn... the sunrise loves to shine on cake frosted trees.
I'd rather write about deserts than the function of Irony, but my craft is an endangered species due to the misunderstanding of its necessity.
Every single word hopes to mean more.
Did you know?
Love is always looking for definition.
That one you're familiar with.
But all language is like that; it grows with the times.
Even Scientific theories adapt and grow.
Newton lives in a new town since Einstein came around. New words gave new definitions to old words and changed his zip code.
The work of poets. What both Newton and Einstein did was to use the language of Science to commit acts of Poetry. E = mc2 is using old words to shape and share a new dream. Also known as: Poetry.
The practical use of poetry is easy to see in a word like Freedom.
Our agreed upon definition needs an update.
At least a reminder.
Going to enjoy the view.
Take care and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: ❄️snowflake
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a person looking out a window at sunrise watching the snowfall while holding a cupcake.
Archaic Slab
The Sun Knows
Mother Nature powers up her cellphone everyday and calls it dawn.
Sunday, February 15, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
There's always something new.
Every sunrise shows a sequence of light different from the day before.
Thinking on what's been gained waking up to record each dawn.
For almost two years what the sunrise brings, the wonder of each, is recorded here.
With all the flash and volume of The World as bright and loud as it's been, I thought the ways and rhythms of how a poet views life could be medicinal.
A guy caught in the act of doing what he loves every morning, first thing, under the spectacle called sunrise, ought to be educational to everyone.
At the very least, a reminder of The Greatest Light Show on Earth, The Illumination that makes The World possible: The Sunrise.
Mother Nature powers up her cellphone everyday and calls it dawn.
We wake and stretch into this Celestial Software called A Day.
If you feel your life lacks inspiration and wonder, there's an easy fix.
Get up, sit alone, and watch The Sunrise.
As color and warmth return to all things remember it doesn't have to be this way. Wonder why it is, why it keeps going, what opportunities it allows for you.
All of humanity's greatest inventions mirror Mother Nature and the ways of The Universe.
A rock rolls... we make a wheel.
So what's up with the picture world of colors on your phone screen?
The Sun knows.
A rock rolls to make a wheel possible.
The Sun shines to make The Internet,
To light up every screen.
Day and Night make the original binary light.
A Big Bang? More like pressing the power button on.
Thanks for sharing another sunrise with me, take care, and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 📦package
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink illustration of The Sun typing on a laptop.
Archaic Slab
We Don't Talk Much About It Anymore
2026.02.11 The feeling has lived so long in the shadows it feels like a sixth sense.
Wednesday, February 11, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day? O/
Thanks for reading.
On with our show...
Sometimes you just know a thing. You feel it; you sense it.
Not in some New Age hippie woah man that's far-out way, but you feel it.
When we're honest with ourselves we find we have this knowing all the time.
We don't talk much about it anymore.
It's not easily, if at all, enumerated.
The feeling has lived so long in the shadows it feels like a sixth sense.
It's called Morality.
There's evidence everywhere we don't talk about and so don't value enough anymore.
Science tries to define it with Psychology and Sociology; they're theories at best.
Morality is an active force in the world, a rhythm section for Life.
Evidence is easy Scientists: it's why stories work.
Would you believe someone from a different Country and Culture speaking a different language laughs and cries at the same times in the same movies as you?
You don't have to believe it; you know they do.
Ever wonder how that's possible?
What force makes stories work?
Morality.
You know when every hero wins, so you know how to lead a Good (Capital G) Life.
The genres of stories you most prefer tells you what fascinates you about being alive.
Science Fiction: You value ingenuity, teamwork, and what ingenuity can make with its hands.
YA Romance: Possibilities... of Magic, of Love.
Literary Fiction: The value of introspection. How it assists living a life well lived.
Poetry: The power of language itself.
And so many more.
What types of stories do you most enjoy? It's where your fascination is. It's also where your best life lived is...
Serving and sharing the themes of your favorite stories.
We can also tell what a society is lacking by the stories it devours.
The surge in YA Romance novels over the past decade or so shows a shift on how we think about Love.
We value women more. It's about time.
When we value women's voice in relationships more the effect is almost supernatural.
The limits of what Love can do lift.
The possibilities feel endless and magical.
Enter the shelves full of were-vamp-wizard-King Love novellas from so many young women lately.
Snow last night, the kind that covers branches. Every oak and elm is a pastry topped with icing from a skilled baker.
If you eat cake because you love frosting, it's a good morning to view the trees.
Maybe add a little more sweetener to your coffee or tea while you're at it today.
Take care and make a wonderful day.
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🍰cake
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink illustration of a person eating a cake outside in winter watching the sunrise after a snow storm.
Archaic Slab
It Starts with Wonder
2026.02.06 When's the last time you did something because it was a good thing to do?
Friday, February 06, 2026
Good morning, The Wonderfell Way.
How's your sunshine, Valentine?
About an hour till here.
But here we are. Let's keep it going.
On with our show...
Have you heard the News? There's something called Good.
Though we don't talk much about it lately, it's always here.
Good is in the 'Why' aisle at The Grocery Store of Reasons.
"Why'd you do that?"
-Curious Friend
"Oh, I had a good reason."
-Friend with a Good Reason
It's wit; it's joking; but this topic is quite serious.
And medicine.
When's the last time you did something because it was a good thing to do?
The Good thing isn't always the fun thing. Going to work is a Good thing. Doing your work well is a Good thing, too.
Do you do your work well? You should. It's a very Good thing to do.
Life works in a certain way; the Sun rises to make morning.
Plant a seed, add water and light, and it grows. Water performs a might as well be magical circle dance from solid, to liquid, to steam; so clouds can water the World fed.
I agree with my friends in all the Sciences that the consistency of matter is worth measure. But it's also Good. The World being reliable is a wonderful thing worth adjectives.
Artists are for adjectives, Scientists for nouns.
Nouns and numbers are limited by design.
Adjectives stretch.
A noun that is also an adjective is a word full of possibilities. We don't use Good as a noun often anymore and that's not so good.
We shy away from it for Scientific reasons. But Good isn't arbitrary, it's Life working right.
Like the sunrise, like steam rising and rain falling, like the loyalty of a dog, like how it feels to be genuinely thanked for a job well-done. Good things.
This is a point I often write about on Wonderfell, a poet's relationship with Science.
We are living in A Dark Age of Science. It sounds sensational, even funny; but it is true.
We don't value feelings, expression, Life alive! enough anymore. We view ourselves as statistics with a chance to fly to The Moon.
What for? Why would anyone in their right mind want to travel to The Moon?
For the experience.
The experience is my field of expression, my expertise.
The Poet. O/
This poet turns on the light of living Life alive with every sunrise.
There's more to life than adding it up Science; there's also the joy of adding it up!
The Joy is my business.
The recognition of the value of which is so sorely lacking lately.
Back to Good.
We hesitate to define the Good because we can't enumerate it. But some experiences in Life transcend what numbers can do. They require words.
There is a presence in you more than numbers can quantify. There's a wick inside the jar called yourself lit with the fire called Life at your inception.
That flame is you.
Your body does its best to care for it, share it, and express it.
We used to call it spirit or soul.
We shy away in Science's dark from talking about it anymore.
It's my duty, my work, to make sure we keep recognition of the personal fire that keeps you moving in your thoughts.
It starts with wonder.
Consider wonder, look around the site some (there's plenty here), and make your wonderful day.
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🩰ballet_shoes
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink drawing of a person on the moon looking through a telescope.
