One of those mornings when Iona and the Ross of Mull peep over the horizon, islands floating above a sea of light. Then the sun breaks, itself fluid, a drop of steel from the furness, burning gold flowing like mercury.
Christmas services
Lots of travelling about to see family and lots of deadlines over Christmas period, but now back on Tiree and it’s New Year’s day, so time for a short breather.
All the travelling about meant we didn’t seem to get to as many carol services and the like before Christmas, so it didn’t really feel as if Christmas Day was near until it was upon us.
Miriam is in the choir at Birmingham Cathedral and was singing at both the midnight service on Christmas Eve and the Christmas Morning service, so we all spent Christmas with her. To be honest I expected the Cathedral services to be beautiful, but lifeless affairs. I was very wrong.
The midnight service was full-on bells-and-smells with smoking incense wafted over Bible, congregation and anything else in range. Poor Fiona, who had a cough anyway, struggled to breath through the rich spicy fumes and one other girl had to step out for air. As well as the people, but I’ll come to those later, the turning point to me was when the priest, dressed in a white surplus with beautiful and intricate embroidery, came to the centre of the aisle to read the New Testament lesson, flanked on either side by candle bearers in cassocks … of course all heavily wafted in incense … and she began to read. Clearly she too found it hard to breath in the smoke (Miriam told us later that the incense was only occasionally used in the services, so she had little practice reading under adverse conditions), but, as her head moved from side to side reading the lesson, the light caught a sparkle of glitter in her hair and suddenly the solemnity of the occasion, her own humanity and the joy of the celebration all came together. A sparkle in the hair a parable for the message of incarnation.
To be honest tired after so much driving, thesis reading, etc., I fell asleep through some of the sermon … and yes, sometimes if you notice me in a talk with my eyes closed it is rapt attention, but sometimes …
Christmas services are always times which bring in the once-a-year visitors as well as the weekly faithful, so always difficult for the preacher. Some primarily address the latter, hoping that the former will absorb the message and the occasion, often appropriate in small communities. The opposite alternative is to treat it as an ‘opportunity for evangelism’ addressing the newcomer, but risking treating them as gospel cannon fodder and maybe even neglecting to focus on the celebration that is Christmas. This seems particularly difficult in a cathedral, which is both a place of worship, but also part of civic life; there to serve the city, to welcome people in on their own terms and yet offer them more.
Again, being honest, I expected the preacher to ‘play safe; bland words and a Christmas greeting, but instead (between my naps) he seemed to get it just right, not ‘preachy’ but welcoming yet leaving no doubt that we were not gathered just to sing a few nice songs, but there to celebrate the birth of a real baby, who became a real man, offering a rich promise, and making real demands on our lives.
However, what struck me most was not so much the ‘front activity’ of priests and candles, lectern and Bible, or even bread and wine, but the people in the congregation. So varied: the lady in ‘Sunday best’ everybody’s image of the librarian or old-style school teacher, three men with tightly cropped hair like the Mitchell brothers in Eastenders, a group of young women maybe going to a party later, a girl in a heavy-metal sweat shirt, and a young couple punctuating their devotions with the occasional hug. I wondered at their stories, some regulars, some who, like us, had come especially for the service, some who maybe wandered in.
On the Sunday after Christmas we were all in Kendal and went to the morning service at Sandylands, our regular church while we’d lived at Kendal. Being the post-Christmas service, one of the readings was the familiar story of when Mary and Joseph took the new baby Jesus to the temple to make their offering of two doves after the birth. Simeon is an old man but had been told that he wouldn’t die until he has seen the Messiah … he sees the baby Jesus and recognises him.
As this was read, the mathematician in me woke up and I did some quick sums, probably a few 100,000 in Palestine at that time, birth rate for replacement maybe 3%, so thousands of babies a year brought to the temple, maybe a few dozen babies every day … and out of all these Simeon spots one. I was reminded of Ursula le Guin’s book “A Wizard of Earthsea“. It is set in a world of oceans and islands … not so far different from the Hebrides … all interlaced with magic. The young wizard Sparrowhawk is on a quest and in a tower in the far north is lead into a deep room where a great treasure is stored. The room is empty, but amongst the flagstones on the floor, he spots one, a small insignificant stone, worn from depths of ages, but so so old and holding a deep ancient dark power. Like Sparrowhawk, Simeon spots the one of great value amongst the many; does it take special eyes or a special gift to see, or just willingness to look?
Although the old dark powers in “A Wizard of Earthsea” are just a story, the Christmas celebrations are themselves set at midwinter at the time of many old pre-Christian festivals. The early Christians saw no problem in embracing pagan places and even names (even the English word Easter!) so long as they were consistent with the Christian purpose. Indeed, it is commonly assumed, there being no indication in the Gospels as to the time of year when Jesus was born, that the early Christians chose the Roman feast of Sol Invictus, the official State sun god so as to declare Christ the Son’s place at the heart of formal society; like those in Birmingham today, treading a difficult line between personal devotion and civic religion.
The parties, eating and drinking of Christmas capture some of the spirit of pagan midwinter, celebrating the sun’s return, and not entirely absent from cathederal mass … see the sparkle in the hair amongst the robes and dress coats of formal civic celebration, but both raw humanity and ordered civilisation give way to something greater. There is a logic that is not the tit-for-tat logic of base human nature, nor the clinical logic of pure reason (although both are part of us), but instead is a logic that takes all the problems and pain of the world and answers them in a tiny wriggling baby.
short story for Christmas
A few years ago I wrote a short children’s story “Christopher’s Christmas“. I put a PDF online at the time, but just put the whole thing online as HTML to read in the browser.
This was partly written because it is too easy to forget how difficult things are for little children, and also as a personal catharsis remembering myself, as a slightly older child, on my first Christmas after my own dad died.
… and no, I didn’t get a 5 year old to draw the pictures … just that I draw like a 5 year old :-/
reading: Computing is a Natural Science
I’ve just been re-reading Peter Denning’s article “Computing is a Natural Science”1. The basic thesis is that computation as broad concept goes way beyond digital computers and many aspects of science and life have a computational flavour; “Computing is the study of natural and artificial information processes“. As an article this is in some ways not so controversial as computational analogies have been used in cognitive science for almost as long as there have been computers (and before that analogies with steam engines) and readers of popular science magazines can’t have missed the physicists using parallels with information and computation in cosmology. However, Denning’s paper is to some extent a manifesto, or call to arms: “computing is not just a load of old transistor, but something to be proud of, the roots of understanding the universe”.
Particularly useful are the “principles framework for computing” that Denning has been constructing through a community discussion process. I mentioned these before when blogging about “what is computing? The article lists the top level categories and gives examples of how each of these can be found in areas that one would not generally think of as ‘computing’.
Computation (meaning and limits of computation)
Communication (reliable data transmission)
Coordination (cooperation among networked entities)
Recollection (storage and retrieval of information)
Automation (meaning and limits of automation)
Evaluation (performance prediction and capacity planning)
Design (building reliable software systems)
categories from “Great Principles of Computing“
Occasionally the mappings are stretched … I’m not convinced that natural fractals are about hierarchical aggregation … but they do paint a picture of ubiquitous parallels across the key areas of computation.
Denning is presenting a brief manifesto not a treatise, so examples of very different kinds tend to be presented together. There seem to be three main kinds:
- ubiquity of computational devices – from iPods to the internet, computation is part of day-to-day life
- ubiquity of computation as a tool – from physical simulations to mathematical proofs and eScience
- ubiquity of computation as an explanatory framework – modelling physical and biological systems as if they were performing a computational function
It is the last, computation as analogy or theoretical lens that seems most critical to the argument as the others are really about computers in the traditional sense and few would argue that computers (rather than computation) are everywhere.
Rather like weak AI, one can look treat these analogies as simply that, rather like the fact that electrical flow in circuits can be compared with water flow in pipes. So we may feel that computation may be a good way to understand a phenomena, but with no intention of saying the phenomena is fundamentally computational.
However, some things are closer to a ‘strong’ view of computation as natural science. One example of this is the “socio-organisational Church-Turing hypothesis”, a term I often use in talks with its origins in a 1998 paper “Redefining Organisational Memory“. The idea is that organisations are, amongst other things, information processing systems, and therefore it is reasonable to expect to see structural similarities between phenomena in organizations and those in other information processing systems such as digital computers or our brains. Here computation is not simply an analogy or useful model, the similarity is because there is a deep rooted relationship – an organisation is not just like a computer, it is actually computational.
Apparently absent are examples of where the methods of algorithmics or software engineering are being applied in other domains; what has become known as ‘computational thinking‘. This maybe because there are two sides to computing:
- computing (as a natural science) understanding how computers (and similar things) behave – related to issues such as emergence, interaction and communication, limits of computability
- computing (as a design discipline) making computers (and similar things) behave as we want them to – related to issues such as hierarchical decomposition and separation of concerns
The first can be seen as about understanding complexity and the latter controlling it. Denning is principally addressing the former, whereas computational thinking is about the latter.
Denning’s thesis could be summarised as “computation is about more than computers”. However, that is perhaps obvious in that the early study of computation by Church and Turing was before the advent of digital computers; indeed Church was primarily addressing what could be computed by mathematicians not machines! Certainly I was left wondering what exactly was ubiquitous: computation, mathematics, cybernetics?
Denning notes how the pursuit of cybernetics as an all embracing science ran aground as it seemed to claim too much territory (although the practical application of control theory is still live and well) … and one wonders if the same could happen for Denning’s vision. Certainly embodied mind theorists would find more in common with cybernetics than much of computing and mathematicians are not going to give up the language of God too easily.
Given my interest in all three subjects, computation, mathematics, cybernetics, it prompts me to look for the distinctions, and overlaps, and maybe the way that they are all linked (perhaps all just part of mathematics ;-)). Furthermore as I am also interested in understanding the nature of computation I wonder whether looking at how natural things are ‘like’ computation may be not only an application of computational understanding, but more a lens or mirror that helps us see computation itself more clearly.
- well when I say re-reading I think the first ‘read’ was more of a skim, great thing about being on sabbatical is I actually DO get to read things 🙂 [back]
island life – three weeks in
It was three weeks yesterday when we moved here to Tiree and slowly getting into the pace of island life. Steve, our first visitor, left on Thursday, on the ‘big’ plane (about 30 seats). Had a great time working with Steve on the Physicality book that we are writing as an outcome of the DEPtH project. We managed the odd walk on the beach together, albeit rather windy, and Steve, brave soul, cycled several times from his hotel in Scarinish to our house, not far and flat all the way, but with a 30 knot wind in your face!
Otherwise have had our first fuel shortage when we needed petrol for the car and found there was none on the island for several days (incidentally the garage must have one of the best views in the country), had our first takeaway (fish and chip van 100 yards from the house … we are well positioned), lit our first fires (ah the smell of coal smoke reminds me of my childhood), registered at the doctors to get vaccinations ready for India (not in regimented 10 minute slots!), and of course lots of paddling in the sea … but think I might be developing my first every chilblains … well I know my own fault, but how can I resist when there is sea and foaming waves to dip my toes in.
It still feels like a holiday … of course holiday for me tends to mean working with a nice view … so not sitting around the whole day watching the wind blow foam back in clouds from the breaking wave crests and the patterns of dark and light constantly shift with the moving clouds. Getting lots done, for once clearing the to-do list faster than it grows (although it does still grow, some things don’t change), but for the first time for years free of that ever present feeling of heavy heavy weight on my shoulders.
… and on Monday I’ll be experiencing the flight to Glasgow myself as travelling to Dublin to give the SIGCHI Ireland inaugural lecture. Managed to work out flights without needing a stay-over in Glasgow, but I have a feeling I will get to know the Holiday Inn Express at Glasgow airport quite well over the coming year.
Steve’s bin
This is Steve‘s bin that I mentioned in my last post.
Glasdon UK: Plaza® Litter Bin
Had to be drunk proof, dustman proof, and bomb proof. Also has to be emptied without needing a key, but be difficult to open if you don’t know how (to prevent Saturday night vandalism). To top it all had to be designed to be able to be replaced after emptying so that it self locks, and yet is made by a moulding process that means there may be up to a couple of centimetres movement from the design spec. I am very impressed.
strength in weakness – Judo design
Steve Gill is visiting so that we can work together on a new book on physicality. Last night, over dinner, Steve was telling us about a litter-bin lock that he once designed. The full story linked creative design, the structural qualities of materials, and the social setting in which it was placed … a story well worth hearing, but I’ll leave that to Steve.
One of the critical things about the design was that while earlier designs used steel, his design needed to be made out of plastic. Steel is an obvious material for a lock: strong unyielding; however the plastic lock worked because the lock and the bin around it were designed to yield, to give a little, and is so doing to absorb the shock if kicked by a drunken passer-by.
This is a sort of Judo principle of design: rather than trying to be the strongest or toughest, instead by yielding in the right way using the strength of your opponent.
This reminded me of trees that bend in the wind and stand the toughest storms (the wind howling down the chimney maybe helps the image), whereas those that are stiffer may break. Also old wooden pit-props that would moan and screech when they grew weak and gave slightly under the strain of rock; whereas the stronger steel replacements would stand firm and unbending until the day they catastrophically broke.
Years ago I also read about a programme to strengthen bridges as lorries got heavier. The old arch bridges had an infill of loose rubble, so the engineers simply replaced this with concrete. In a short time the bridges began to fall down. When analysed more deeply the reason become clear. When an area of the loose infill looses strength, it gives a little, so the strain on it is relieved and the areas around take the strain instead. However, the concrete is unyielding and instead the weakest point takes more and more strain until eventually cracks form and the bridge collapses. Twisted ropes work on the same principle. Although now an old book, “The New Science of Strong Materials” opened my eyes to the wonderful way many natural materials, such as bone, make use of the relative strengths, and weaknesses, of their constituents, and how this is emulated in many composite materials such as glass fibre or carbon fibre.
In contrast both software and bureaucratic procedures are more like chains – if any link breaks the whole thing fails.
Steve’s lock design shows that it is possible to use the principle of strength in weakness when using modern materials, not only in organic elements like wood, or traditional bridge design. For software also, one of the things I often try to teach is to design for failure – to make sure things work when they go wrong. In particular, for intelligent user interfaces the idea of appropriate intelligence – making sure that when intelligent algorithms get things wrong, the user experience does not suffer. It is easy to want to design the cleverest algotithms, the most complex systems – to design for everything, to make it all perfect. While it is of course right to seek the best, often it is the knowledge that what we produce will not be ‘perfect’ that in fact enables us to make it better.
The Cult of Ignorance
Throughout society, media, and academia, it seems that ignorance is no longer a void to be filled, but a virtue to be lauded. Ignorance is certainly not a ‘problem’, not something to be ashamed of, but is either an opportunity to learn or a signal that you need to seek external expertise. However, when ignorance is seen as something not just good in itself, but almost a sign of superiority over those who do have knowledge or expertise, then surely this is a sign of a world in decadence.
Although it is something of which I’ve been aware for a long time, two things prompt to think again about this: a mailing list discussion about science in schools and a recent paper review.
The CPHC mailing list discussion was prompted by a report by the BBC on a recent EU survey on attitudes to science amongst 15-25 year olds. The survey found that around 1/2 of Irish and British respondents felt they “lacked the skills to pursue a career in science” compared with only 10% in several eastern European countries. The discussion was prompted not so much by the result itself but by the official government response that the UK science community needed to do more “to understand what excites and enthuses young people and will switch them on to a science future.” While no-one disagrees with the sentiment, regarding it as ‘the problem’ disregards the fact that those countries where scientific and mathematical education is not a problem are precisely those where the educational systems are more traditional, less focused on motivation and fun!
I have blogged before about my concerns regarding basic numeracy, but that was about ‘honest ignorance’, people who should know not knowing. However, there is a common attitude to technical subjects that makes it a matter of pride for otherwise educated people to say “I could never do maths” or “I was never good at science”, in a way that would be incongruous if it were said about reading or writing (although as we shall see below technologists do do precisely that), and often with the implication that to have been otherwise would have been somehow ‘nerdy’ and made them less well-balanced people.
Sadly this cult of ignorance extends also to academia.
A colleague of mine recently had reviews back on a paper. One reviewer criticised the use of the term ‘capitalisation’ (which was in context referring to ‘social capital’) as to the reviewer word meant making letters upper case. The reviewer suggested that this might be a word in the author’s native language.
At a time when the recapitalisation of banks is a major global issue, this surely feels like culpable ignorance. Obviously the word was being used in a technical sense, but the reviewer was suggesting it was not standard English. Of course, ‘capital’ in the financial sense dates back certainly 300 years, the verb ‘capitalise’ is part of everyday speech “let’s capitalise on our success”, and my 30 year old Oxford English Dictionary includes the following:
Capitalize 1850. …. 2. The project of capitalizing incomes 1856. Hence Capitalization.
Now I should emphasise it is not the ignorance of the reviewer I object to; I know I am ignorant of many things and ready to admit it. The problem is that the reviewer feels confident enough in that ignorance to criticise the author for the use of the word … apparently without either (a) consulting a dictionary, or (b) while filling out the online review form bothering to Google it!
This reminded me of a review of a paper I once received that criticised my statistical language, suggesting I should use the proper statistical term ‘significance’ rather than the informal language ‘confidence’. Now many people do not really understand the difference between significance testing (evidence of whether things are different) and confidence intervals (evidence of how different or how similar they are) – and so rarely use the latter, even though confidence intervals are a more powerful statistical tool. However the problem here is not so much the ignorance of the reviewer (albeit that a basic awareness of statistical vocabulary would seem reasonable in a discipline with a substantial experimental side), but the fact that the reviewer felt confident enough in his/her ignorance to criticise without either consulting an elementary statistical text book or Googling “statistics confidence”.
So, let’s be proud of our skills and our knowledge, humble in accepting the limits of what we know, and confident enough in ourselves, so that we do not need to denegrate others for doing what we cannot. Then ignorance becomes a spring board to learn more and a launching point for collaboration
web ephemera and web privacy
Yesterday I was twittering about a web page I’d visited on the BBC1 and the tweet also became my Facebook status2. Yanni commented on it, not because of the content of the link, but because he noticed the ‘is.gd’ url was very compact. Thinking about this has some interesting implications for privacy/security and the kind of things you might to use different url shortening schemes for, but also led me to develop an interesting time-wasting application ‘LuckyDip‘ (well if ‘develop’ is the right word as it was just 20-30 mins hacking!).
I used the ‘is.gd’ shortening because it was one of three schemes offered by twirl, the twitter client I use. I hadn’t actually noticed that it was significantly shorter than the others or indeed tinyurl, which is what I might have thought of using without twirl’s interface.
Here is the url of this blog <http://www.alandix.com/blog/> shortened by is.gd and three other services:
snurl: http://snurl.com/5ot5k
twurl: http://twurl.nl/ftgrwl
tinyurl: http://tinyurl.com/5j98ao
is.gd: http://is.gd/7OtF
The is.gd link is small for two reasons:
- ‘is.gd’ is about as short as you can get with a domain name!
- the ‘key’ bit after the domain is only four characters as opposed to 5 (snurl) or 6 (twurl, tinyurl)
The former is just clever domain choice, hard to get something short at all, let alone short and meaningful3.
The latter however is as a result of a design choice at is.gd. The is.gd urls are allocated sequentially, the ‘key’ bit (7OtF) is simply an encoding of the sequence number that was allocated. In contrast tinyurl seems to do some sort of hash either of the address or maybe of a sequence number.
The side effect of this is that if you simply type in a random key (below the last allocated sequence number) for an is.gd url it will be a valid url. In contrast, the space of tinyurl is bigger, so ‘in principle’ only about one in a hundred keys will represent real pages … now I say ‘in principle’ because experimenting with tinyurl I find every six character seqeunce I type as a key gets me to a valid page … so maybe they do some sort of ‘closest’ match.
Whatever url shortening scheme you use by their nature the shorter url will be less redundant than a full url – more ‘random’ permutations will represent meaningful items. This is a natural result of any ‘language’, the more concise you are the less redundant the language.
At a practical level this means that if you use a shortened url, it is more likely that someone typing in a random is.gd (or tinyurl) key will come across your page than if they just type a random url. Occasionally I upload large files I want to share to semi-private urls, ones that are publicly available, but not linked from anywhere. Because they are not linked they cannot be found through search engines and because urls are long it would be highly unlikely that someone typing randomly (or mistyping) would find them.
If however, I use url shortening to tell someone about it, suddenly my semi-private url becomes a little less private!
Now of course this only matters if people are randomly typing in urls … and why would they do such a thing?
Well a random url on the web is not very interesting in general, there are 100s of millions and most turn out to be poor product or hotel listing sites. However, people are only likely to share interesting urls … so random choices of shortened urls are actually a lot more interesting than random web pages.
So, just for Yanni, I spent a quick 1/2 hour4 and made a web page/app ‘LuckyDip‘. This randomly chooses a new page from is.gd every 20 seconds – try it!
successive pages from LuckyDip
Some of the pages are in languages I can’t read, occasionally you get a broken link, and the ones that are readable, are … well … random … but oddly compelling. They are not the permanently interesting pages you choose to bookmark for later, but the odd page you want to send to someone … often trivia, news items, even (given is.gd is in a twitter client) the odd tweet page on the twitter site. These are not like the top 20 sites ever, but the ephemera of the web – things that someone at some point thought worth sharing, like overhearing the odd raised voice during a conversation in a train carriage.
Some of the pages shown are map pages, including ones with addresses on … it feels odd, voyeuristic, web curtain twitching – except you don’t know the person, the reason for the address; so maybe more like sitting watching people go by in a crowded town centre, a child cries, lovers kiss, someone’s newspaper blows away in the wind … random moments from unknown lives.
In fact most things we regard as private are not private from everyone. It is easy to see privacy like an onion skin with the inner sanctum, then those further away, and then complete strangers – the further away someone is from ‘the secret’ the more private something is. This is certainly the classic model in military security. However, think further and there are many things you would be perfectly happy for a complete stranger to know, but maybe not those a little closer, your work colleagues, your commercial competitors. The onion sort of reverses, apart from those that you explicitly want to know, in fact the further out of the onion, the safer it is. Of course this can go wrong sometimes, as Peter Mandleson found out chatting to a stranger in a taverna (see BBC blog).
So I think LuckyDip is not too great a threat to the web’s privacy … but do watch out what you share with short urls … maybe the world needs a url lengthening service too …
And as a postscript … last night I was trying out the different shortening schemes available from twirl, and accidentally hit return, which created a tweet with the ‘test’ short url in it. Happily you can delete tweets, and so I thought I had eradicated the blunder unless any twitter followers happened to be watching at that exact moment … but I forgot that my twitter feed also goes to my Facebook status and that deleting the tweet on twitter did not remove the status, so overnight the slip was my Facebook status and at least one person noticed.
On the web nothing stays secret long, and if anything is out there, it is there for ever … and will come back to hant you someday.
- This is the tweet “Just saw http://is.gd/7Irv Sad state of the world is that it took me several paragraphs before I realised it was a joke.”[back]
- I managed to link them up some time ago, but cannot find again the link on twitter that enabled this, so would be stuck if I wanted to stop it![back]
- anyone out there registering Bangaldeshi domains … if ‘is’ is available!![back]
- yea it should ave been less, but I had to look up how to access frames in javascript, etc.[back]
Coast to coast: St Andrews to Tiree
A week ago I was in St Andrews on the east coast of Scotland delivering three lectures on “Human Computer Interaction: as it was, as it is and as it may be” as part of their distinguished lecture series and now I am in Tiree in the wild western ocean off the west coast.
I had a great time in St Andrews and was well looked after by some I knew already Ian, Gordan, John and Russell, and also met many new people. Ate good food and stayed in a lovely hotel overlooking the sea (and golf course) and full of pictures of golfers (well what do you expect in St Andrews).
For the lectures, I was told the general pattern was one lecture about the general academic area, one ‘state of the art’ and one about my own stuff … hence the three parts of the title! Ever for cutesy titles I then called the individual lectures “Whose Computer Is It Anyway”, “The Great Escape” and “Connected, but Under Control, Big, but Brainy?”.
The first lecture was about the fact that computers are always ultimately for people (surprise surprise!) and I used Ian’s slight car accident on the evening before the lecture as a running example (sorry Ian).
The second lecture was about the way computers have escaped the office desktop and found their way into the physical world of ubiquitous computing, the digital world of the web ad into our everyday lives in out homes and increasingly the hub of our social lives too. Matt Oppenheim did some great cartoons for this and I’m going to use them again in a few weeks when I visit Dublin to do the inaugural lecture for SIGCHI Ireland.
 (© Matt Oppenheim) |
 (© Matt Oppenheim) |
The last lecture was about intelligent internet stuff, similar to the lecture I gave at Aveiro a couple of weeks back … mentioning again the fact that the web now has the same information storage and processing capacity as a human brain1 … always makes people think … well at least it always makes ME think about what it means to be human.
… and now … in Tiree … sun, wild wind, horizontal hail, and paddling in the (rather chilly) sea at dawn
