To me, nature is its own language.  All we can do is struggle to express, in our own feeble way, what the world is trying to give to us.  So much poetry has been written in an attempt to describe the simple color of a leaf in autumn, or the way a spider spins its web, or the unfurling of a fern frond in the early spring–so much written, so little understood.

Science has its own language, complex and focusing on minutiae.  One must undergo years of training to speak this language.  The language of science can exclude, it can isolate, but it can answer the questions of how, of why, of where.  Science can look at nature and ignore the beauty to see the molecules and forces, the pigments and chemicals and selective pressures.

To marry science and language is to attempt to bring the wonder back to the mechanics.  Beauty is everywhere.  It is magical and evanescent, but it can be explained.  Here is my attempt.

“I believe in God, only I spell it Nature” – Frank Lloyd Wright

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