Expression of the huplanCON4 Gene in Island Dwelling Species

I woke with a start and an instinct for action.  Some unsensed signal had penetrated my sleep at the exact moment I was almost too late.  Checking my watch, and converting for Pacific Time, I knew unseen activities were already underway, upstream and down.  As I broke for the door and into the dark, my pace quickened from cautious to conclusive within a few steps.  In this period of acceleration I also set, without thinking, the course I would take to join paths with the other agents already in action.    

Winding down the wooded road I lobbed a stream of wave and particle out in front of me.  It is important to note that my movements were no longer in my control.  The physical structure of the road simply pitched me forward and dictated my diversions.  Of course my legs played their part but whatever energy they contributed was like that of an actin filament marching along an intercellular matrix. The intelligence at work was long established and outside of myself.

Now down the path some distance I approached a beacon that was established from a source moving in my direction.  As we met a signal of confirmation was exchanged and the globular assembly of journeyers like me folded open and I was incorporated into the structure. 

All of the players in this globular assembly have a tale like mine.  Their journeys till now won’t be told here but it is certain that, while the details may differ, they are written by the same author and their structure and syntax are conserved across this narrative.   

On the final morning of my week on Galiano Island I found myself one of eight adventurers (seven humans and Sir Gibby the sheep dog) packed into the fuselage of the Wilkinson’s Prius.  The cargo we carried would transport us across the solar system, bouncing from planet to planet until our terrestrial atmosphere and relentlessly waxing sun drowned the subjects of our gaze in a flood of light and color. 

We left the Huntington farm in pursuit of the elusive horizon which hosted the planets Venus, Mars, Mercury and Jupiter.  We drove on into the fleeting darkness of the morning; our cylindrical payload filled with lenticular glass and mirrors was draped across our conjoined laps. Our concern was not with the early hour or the cramped conditions but with overlapping our expression with a narrow band of time and space. 

We reached our destination suddenly as a window to the horizon presented itself. When our guides confirmed the suitability of the location we poured into the morning like linked amino acids streaming out of a ribosome conforming into purpose as it encounters the aqueous environment of a cell.  The dynamic conditions of our earthly cytoplasm coordinated our movements as we folded into purposeful action with unspoken entropic efficiency. 

Scanning the horizon we passed binoculars among us while we alternately bowed and paused at the ocular of our interplanetary transporter-  looking for fleeting points of light increasingly consumed by the overwhelming regularity of our closest star.

Months later, connected once again through technology and common interest, I’d learn from that mornings guide that there were no full viewings of the quadruple conjugation all across Canada. “We might have been better off closer to the equator.” he said, but I can’t think of any better place to miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.