When Science And Art Collide

My husband loves science. It's something he's really passionate about and while he's not a scientist by profession, it makes up a big part of his life and who he is. Everything from the tiniest and most unusual creatures on our planet to the incredible mysteries of our universe, it fascinates him.

My husband is always eager to share the latest things he's learned with his not-so-science-y wife (the only C I ever got in college was in a mandatory science class I took freshman year--and what's pathetic is that I was actually trying!). But even though science isn't at all my forte, I try to be a good listener, and he's taught me some amazing things. If it weren't for my husband, I would have never known that there is a type of ant out there that builds their entire colony inside of an acorn. Or that there is a mission in the works to try to send humans within the next ten or so years to live permanently on Mars. Or that a company in France is developing Kevlar-toed socks that would presumably never wear out.

I can admit that most of the factoids he shares with me are interesting, and some of them really stick with me. But it's not often that I'm completely stopped in my tracks, as I was when he sent me the video I'm about to share. When science, and nature, and the mysteries of our world combine with visual beauty and majesty and sound, then I understand. Then I'm fascinated and transfixed and moved, in awe of this world we call home, amazed by the power of it all.

A supercell near Booker, Texas from Mike Olbinski on Vimeo.

I can't explain what causes a "supercell" like this to occur, as I know my husband can. And if I asked him to explain it to me I'm sure I would soon forget--my mind just doesn't absorb technical details like his does. But what I do know is that this is magical, and frightening, and so heartbreakingly beautiful. I see God in this, I see powerful forces that I can't possibly comprehend, I see fury and beauty tied up together in a way that brings tears to my eyes, and makes me realize how small each of us really are.

When science and art collide, I get it.