The Unexpected
The Unexpected
Our constant change in relative position creates error in expected cycles.
Snorkeling over the coral reef, I see a vista of seemingly unmoving, unchanging corals. Starfish and sea cucumbers sit motionless on the bottom. Fish glide or hover or dash here and there. The brightly colored fish attract my attention as they glitter in the sun. Suddenly, my head turns, my eyes focus together on a single dead coral head. Even though I was not looking directly at it before - had not been aware of that particular section of the sea floor - some part of my mind was alerted. I know, after the event, I saw the dead coral rock move slightly.
Dead coral rocks do not move.
I swim closer and dive down. The rock looks like a rock. I reach out to touch it and part of the rock moves again, sliding away from me. My mind refocuses and I see an octopus. It's skin has taken on the color and texture of the dead coral. Even though I am only a meter from it, it is still difficult to sort out the boundaries of the octopus. They are very good at disguise.
If the octopus had not moved, I would not have been aware of it. My mind had already formed an image of the coral reef and set up certain expectations my conscious mind was totally unaware of. Even though I was swimming, even though my eyes were moving both along the trajectory of my body and sliding back and forth over the whole vista of the reef, the mental image showed a still-life image of unmoving corals and dead coral rock sprinkled with sudden, bright movements of reef fish and the random prismatic ripples of sunlight on the sea floor.