"I lay open-mouthed in bed, my arms flung wide at my sides to steady the whirling darkness. At this latitude I'm spinning 836 miles an hour round the earth's axis; I often fancy I feel my sweeping fall as a breakneck arc like the dive of dolphins, and the hollow rushing of wind raises hair on my neck and the side of my face. In orbit around the sun I'm moving 64,800 miles an hour. The solar system as a whole, like a merry-go-round unhinged, spins, bobs, and blinks at the speed of 43,200 miles an hour along a course set east of Hercules. Someone has piped, and we are dancing a tarantella until the sweat pours. I open my eyes and I see dark muscled forms curl out of water with flapping gills and flattened eyes. I close my eyes and I see stars, deep stars giving way to deeper stars bowing to deepest stars at the crown of an infinite cone."
Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek,
NY: Harper & Row, 1974, page 21.