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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3659 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Thermofluidics Suzanne This is vibration's last hiding place heady with grease and cast iron altars to dissected engines. You lurk behind - always behind never quite within reach - the cabinet with its worksheets awaiting next monday's batch of blotchy students. Soon I'll stand there popping bubblewrap from your latest toy but first I must press my ear to the wall of the flume tank next door and listen for the sea. I've made it to your corner where cardboard and foam battle for dominion over keyboards grimy with lost sleep. Your pump rises eeriely fragile as you point out condenser, boiler, the wrapped coil you say mimics the sun's heat. Now you tune this valve and the red liquid swings censer like in its tubes. So this is your silent wonder, malleable and graceful yet clearly kin to these oil-thirsty hulks with their three ton turbines and bolts the size of my fist. They were rail's golden age and clattering mills. This is water to parched fields. |
