7a. The Edges of Perception
See: Fever Dreams - Beyond REM
I don’t think that there was anything supernatural or profound about that dream. It was merely a recurring dream, probably brought on by a fever. Nevertheless, I remember the perceptions, the sensations, and the sequence of events. The profoundness lay in the lesson learned. Many perspectives were possible.
While speeding through the darkness of my oddly lucid dream, I felt that some part of me knew exactly where I was, and was unsurprised and quite acceptant of possessing this knowledge. I sensed that what I could understand as “me-the-human-being”, was only an infinitesimally small bit of all that this non-physical me already knew, but when I tried to think about the specifics of the experience or to put it into some form for later consideration, I found I was unable. Yet, I knew... I knew without words, and without any experience preceding this knowledge.
I knew that what I knew was more than what I thought I knew. What!?
I realized that what I knew as a soul/spirit/energy/non-physical entity was vastly greater than what I knew as a physical Being. This was so obvious to me at that stage in my life that I did not understand why it was the main memory from this dream. There had been so much more and I felt slightly disappointed that I could not recall the specifics. Why did they have to slip away? I wanted to look right at the details of my dream, and have a clear concise memory of them, but they seemed to slip into blackness when I tried.
It was like turning to look directly at something in the dark and finding that it disappears into the shadows. The more you try to focus on the object, the harder it is to see, so you begin to look away and suddenly, the object reappears in your peripheral vision. Automatically, you centre your gaze, and the object vanishes again into the darkness.
The Eye
The human retina is a light sensitive layer of nerve tissue at the back of the eye containing layers of interconnected neurons, including rods and cones (photoreceptors), which convey visual information to neurons in the brain. Rods are extremely light sensitive, but operate only in black and white. Twenty-five million of them are scattered across the retina. Working with, and vastly outnumbered by the rods, are 7 million cones that are sensitive to colour but do not work well in darkness. In the centre of the retina, there is a small impression called the fovea, where there are no rods at all, only densely packed cones.
As a species, we have chosen to spend most of our conscious time in the light. We build shelters and fences to protect ourselves from nocturnal predators, and we feel safe to sleep through the darkness, or, we stay awake under artificial light. We don’t need special night vision. In the light, we like to zero in on one scene at a time and get as much information as we possibly can. We look directly at everything. The cones, packed as they are in the centre of the retina send information to the brain that is superbly detailed, gloriously saturated and of the highest resolution. (Think of the way light shimmers through strawberry jelly or on a peacock feather. Visualize the subtly different colours of tree bark. Consider a rainbow.)
Peripheral Vision
If you look directly at an object in the dark, you will be trying to use only your cones to see it. Since the cones don’t work in the dark, and there are no rods in the fovea you must move the centre of your gaze away from the object you wish to see.
Look slightly to one side of it. Now the rods can see the object, if only in black and white. (The smattering of cones over the rest of the retina does what it can to contribute colour information, though memory may assist here, if you already know the colour of the object.)
On a clear night, look up at the sky (even in the city). As you search for stars, be aware of the stars at the edges of your vision, especially the ones that you can barely see.
When you find the faintest star that you can still see in your peripheral view, try to look directly at it. It will disappear.
If you can still see it when you stare at it, find an even fainter star at the edge of your visual field. It should disappear as soon as you try to look at it directly.
Cats have a special layer of cells behind their retinas called the tapetum lucidum (Latin for “Tapestry of Light” (or bright carpet), which acts like a mirror, reflecting light back into the retina’s cells.)
Bio VIII
posted by Winter Child @ 8:29 a.m.
1 comments
1 Comments:
"Cats have a special layer of cells behind their retinas called the tapetum lucidum..."
ok, this explains how cats see in the 'dark' but it doesn't tell me if waxing the moon makes it any shinier.
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