Is it lexical chance or context that reveal the inner life? I pick blackberries when I’m lonely. We use telescopes to identify the polarity of moons, but there is a smudge on the lens. The axis is a dandelion. We doubt that a machine can translate between words and quantities; we fail to predict the weather. Plucking the petals from a daisy, culture’s magical thinking in fields, the correspondence between a pet and its owner. You bootstrap your ontology. You have caverns of material. The cloud has a mood.