The idea of being able to walk on water has long interested humans greatly. Sadly, biological facts prevent us ever accomplishing such a thing without artificial aid—we simply weigh too much, and all our mass pushes down through our relatively small feet, resulting in a lot of pressure that makes us sink.

    However, several types of animals can walk on water. One of the most interesting is the common basilisk Basilicus basilicus, a lizard (蜥蜴)native to Central and South America. It can run across water for a distance of several meters, avoiding getting wet by rapidly hitting the water's surface with its feet. The lizard will take as many as 20 steps per second to keep moving forward. For humans to do this, we，d need huge feet that we could bring up to our ears in order to create adequate w hitting.

    But fortunately there is an alternative : cornflour. By adding enough of this common thickening agent to water (and it does take a lot), you can create a “non-Newtonian” liquid that doesn't behave like normal water. Now, if the surface of the water is hit hard enough, particles(粒子）in the water group together for a moment to make the surface hard. Move quickly enough and put enough force into each step, and you really can walk across the surface of an adequately thick Liquid of cornflour.

    Fun though all this may sound, it's still rather messy and better read about in theory than carried out in practice. If you must do it, then keep the water wings handy in case you start to sink--and take a shower afterward!

    Life in the Clear

    Transparent animals let light pass through their bodies the same way light passes through a window. These animals typically live between the surface of the ocean and a depth of about 3,300 feet—as far as most light can reach. Most of them are extremely delicate and can be damaged by a simple touch. Sonke Johnsen, a scientist in biology, says, “These animals live through their life alone. They never touch anything unless they're eating it, or unless something is eating them.”

    And they are as clear as glass. How does an animal become see-through? It's trickier than you might think.

    The objects around you are visible because they interact with light. Light typically travels in a straight line. But some materials slow and scatter(散射) light, bouncing it away from its original path. Others absorb light, stopping it dead in its tracks. Both scattering and absorption make an object look different from other objects around it, so you can see it easily.

But a transparent object doesn't absorb or scatter light, at least not very much, Light can pass through it without bending or stopping. That means a transparent object doesn't look very different from the surrounding air or water. You don't see it —-you see the things behind it.

    To become transparent, an animal needs to keep its body from absorbing or scattering light. Living materials can stop light because they contain pigments(色素) that absorb specific colors of light. But a transparent animal doesn't have pigments, so its tissues won't absorb light. According to Johnsen, avoiding absorption is actually easy. The real challenge is preventing light from scattering.

Animals are built of many different materials—-skin, fat, and more—-and light moves through each at a different speed. Every time light moves into a material with a new speed, it bends and scatters. Transparent animals use different tricks to fight scattering. Some animals are simply very small or extremely flat. Without much tissue to scatter light, it is easier to be see—through. Others build a large, clear mass of non-living jelly-lie(果冻状的)material and spread themselves over it .

    Larger transparent animals have the biggest challenge, because they have to make all the different tissues in their bodies slow down light exactly as much as water does. They need to look uniform. But how they're doing it is still unknown. One thing is clear for these larger animals, staying transparent is an active process. When they die, they turn a non-transparent milky white.

    Some of the world's most famous musicians recently gathered in Paris and New Orleans to celebrate the first annual International Jazz Day. UNESCO( United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) recently set April 30 as a day to raise awareness of jazz music, its significance, and its potential as a unifying(联合) voice across cultures.

    Despite the celebrations, though, in the U.S. the jazz audience continues to shrink and grow older, and the music has failed to connect with younger generations.

    It's Jason Moran's job to help change that. As the Kennedy Center's artistic adviser for jazz, Moran hopes to widen the audience for jazz, make the music more accessible, and preserve its history and culture.

    ＂Jazz seems like it's not really a part of the American appetite,＂ Moran tells National Public Radio's reporter Neal Conan. ＂What I'm hoping to accomplish is that my generation and younger start to reconsider and understand that jazz is not black and write anymore. It's actually color, and it's actually digital.＂

    Moran says one of the problems with jazz today is that the entertainment aspect of the music has been lost. ＂The music can't be presented today the way it was in 1908 or 1958. It has to continue to move, because the way the world works is not the same,＂ says Moran.

    Last year, Moran worked on a project that arranged Fats Waller's music for a dance party, ＂just to kind of put it back in the mind that Waller is dance music as much as it is concert music,＂ says Moran. ＂For me, it's the recontextualization. In music, where does the emotion(情感) lie? Are we, as humans, gaining any insight(感悟) on how talk about ourselves and how something as abstract as a Charlie Parker record gets us into a dialogue about our emotions and our thoughts? Sometimes we lose sight that the music has a wider context,＂ says Moran, ＂so I want to continue those dialogues. Those are the things I want to foster.＂

    Seventy-three-year-old George McNeilon selected his food in Value Mart very carefully. After leaving the cashier, he estimated (估计) that he had saved 80 cents and thought that he had got good value for his money again.

    At the exit, the chilly wind reminded him of his gloves. "Now where are they?" He searched here and there, but nowhere could he find them. He was sure he was wearing them when he entered the store. The worried man made a second search in all his pockets, again including the grocery bag. He was sure they must have been dropped somewhere inside the store.

    George bought the gloves at a 25% discount, for just $30, ten years ago. They were genuine lambskin (小羊皮), soft, warm and durable. Until then, he had worn cheaper man-made material that lasted no more than three years. His impulsive decision to buy the expensive gloves turned out to be a good one, which even promoted his social status on the bus, as passengers stared at him enviously for six months out of the year. He enjoyed being envied.

    Bad luck, George thought, to lose his expensive gloves on New Year's Eve. He reentered the store and followed the same route he had walked before. But several minutes of anxious search turned out to be in vain. "Society has changed. People have changed …" he murmured to himself. "Years ago, if people picked up something lost, they would give it back."

    Back home, George was at a loss. In deep winter, he could not do anything without a pair of gloves. If he bought cheap ones, he would have to replace them very soon. If he bought new leather ones, they would cost forty dollars.

    After the holiday, poor George decided to buy another pair of leather gloves. Before boarding the subway, he stepped into Value Mart again to see if by any chance his gloves had been returned to the lost and found office.

    "What color are they?" the woman in the office asked.

    "Black," he answered.

    She looked into her drawer and drew out a pair of men's leather gloves.

    "Are they?"

    "Yes! Those are mine!"

    I was in the Sants Cruz Mountains not long ago, speaking and singing at a women's conference. We were focusing on the theme of loving others in practical ways through our gifts, and something in particular happened during one of the sessions（会议）will remain imprinted in memory.

    A young Syrian woman (Lilith) was invited to the conference at the last minute, and everyone seemed surprised and delighted that she'd actually come. Just a few days earlier, Lilith had fled her country and found refuge with one of the women attending the conference. As an Orthodox Christian in Syria, she and her loved ones had become attacked targets of violent terrorist groups in the country's ongoing civil war.

Lilith had witnessed horrors no one of her young age should ever see. Despite the further danger it presented, she'd decided to leave her home and her family to find safety here in America. Knowing some of her story, and seeing her sitting through the sessions at the retreat（畏缩不前）—head, covered in a scarf, bowed toward the floor—broke my heart.

    Lilith's story touched all of us, including Pam, who was quilt maker. Pam had just finished a beautiful quilt, and had brought it with her. She, along with a few of the leaders, decided to give it to Lilith as a symbol of their comfort and love.

During our last session, Lilith was called forward and prayed over, hugged, and wrapped up in that beautiful quilt. I thought of the many hours Pam undoubtedly spent working on it, and the terrible events that led Lilith to this moment—surrounded by the beauty and love quilt embodied. I wept. When they told her it was for her, she wept.