Word: shallowing
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...plants, says Cronin, are located in exactly the wrong part of the river--the broad, shallow heart of the estuary that serves as a nursery for striped bass, bay anchovies and American shad. The plants suck in water with great force; Indian Point alone uses a million gallons a minute. Fish small enough to slip through the meshes are killed at once. Larger fish are impaled on the screens and killed or maimed. Riverkeeper has forced Indian Point to install $25 million worth of fish-saving equipment, and in 1994 the group successfully sued to make the Environmental Protection Agency...
John was apparently not rated for instrument flying, which meant that the night had better stay very clear. Flying a small plane over water at night can be a scary business; the horizon bleeds into the water, so you can be in a shallow turn and not even know it, not be able to get your bearings from the lights on the shore...
Unlike my teenage brother, I'm not against kids' movies. Some, like The Little Mermaid, are entertaining and truly meaningful. Just because a movie is made for young children doesn't mean it has to be boring or too shallow for adults. I even said to my brother, "Who knows? Maybe you'll end up liking it." He smirched, "I doubt...
This one squeaks with shallow newness, walls too white and paint too fresh. For years, I complained about the rosy glow of my old pink bedroom. Pink wallpaper, pink canopy bed, pink curtains. Six when I picked the hue, I lived with it for 12 years. I quickly tired of it, but never convinced my parents to change it. Now, staring at the plain white walls of my new home, I miss the overwhelming, childish wash of color, remembering how my voice echoed off pinkness in that room. There is something institutional about these walls. Bigger and lighter and emptier...
This one squeaks with shallow newness, walls too white and paint too fresh. For years, I complained about the rosy glow of my old pink bedroom. Pink wallpaper, pink canopy bed, pink curtains. Six when I picked the hue, I lived with it for 12 years. I quickly tired of it, but never convinced my parents to change it. Now, staring at the plain white walls of my new home, I miss the overwhelming, childish wash of color, remembering how my voice echoed off pinkness in that room. There is something institutional about these walls. Bigger and lighter and emptier...