During the hike Stubs was unlucky enough to have been struck (at) by the copperhead pictured below. We were all lucky that he wasn't wounded as it would have meant me carrying his short butt up the mountain.
Check out my other trail photos: Virgin Falls 2005, Fall Creek Falls, Burgess Falls, Big Stone Fork
                                                 ; 
Everyone else is doing it, so why not me?
 
 
What follows is a Fibonacci sequence done in various bases and all double digit numbers have been added together (don't ask why). The pattern repeats in every sequence; this is denoted by the numbers in ellipsis.
What are some possible causes for this repetition? I speculate that it would be the exception to the rule that numbers do not repeat themselves. I can entertain that idea by presenting a challenge to my readership (all two of you) - provide me with a calculation that I cannot break down into a pattern. Certain known infinite decimals are off limits (such as pi, phi, square roots of primes, or other known irrational numbers).
base 9
1123585(5)
22462(2)
336178(78)
4484(4)
552718(18)
664268(68)
776538(38)
base 8
11235167(67)
224632575(5)
336213474(4)
441564373(3)
553145272(2)
665426171(1)
base 7
1123521341565(5)
224644262(2)
336(336)
44268(8)
5543145325161(1)
base 6
11235331454432522415
224151(1)
331454(4)
44325(2)
base 5
1123141(1)
2242(2)
3321343(3)
base 4
11232(2)
22131(1)
base 3
112(112)
 Yawn. I am undoing my Pink Floyd tie and walking into my apartment building's breezeway. Shuffle, shuffle. I almost am too tired to look up. It's 11:30pm, and despite the poor lighting I assume I'm alone.
But I look. Before me is a marvel of the wild. A spectacle that only 30 years prior wouldn't have warranted a series of photos (I'm not sure it does now). A racoon clearly trying to get the hell away from me scuttled up the brick wall of the breezeway.
So, for those of you who find yourselves at Fleetwood Village late in the evening, take heed: There may be wild animals afoot.
 On the way back from my friends house there was a dead fox in the road, an odd sight for a city like Cookeville. The heartwrenching part was there was another fox at the edge of the road, looking at its fallen family member.
In the manner of a curious cat it raised it nose to better obtain a scent of the scene. Was the fox lamenting the death of its mate? Was it wondering why it no longer followed behind? How long would it linger before it moved on? My morbid sense of beauty told me that only a photograph could do the scene justice.
I rushed home to get my camera and returned as fast as safely possible. Upon arrival I found the second fox dead in the road.
|
|
