Word: spraying
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...somber roster of people suffering the effects of Agent Orange has not deterred the U.S. Department of Agriculture from using a weakened form of Agent Orange, 2,4,5-T, to spray forests, rangelands and pastures in the United States. The Pacific Northwest bears the brunt of the spraying, but Wisconsin, Minnesota, West Virginia and other heavily forested states endure the dousings as well...
...massive dying stars, like giant springs, rebound from their calamitous collapse. For days or weeks such exploding stars may shine as brightly as all the galaxy's billions of stars combined. Zwicky and Baade felt sure that the force of such a gravitational collapse and explosion could not only spray material far off into the heavens, but also actually crush the very atoms in the core of a star. Orbiting electrons would be pounded right into the atom's nucleus and wedded with its protons. The result of this celestial alchemy, they said, would be a clump of solidly packed...
...California, the lygus bug invaded cotton fields of the San Joaquin Valley. Worried farmers attacked with insecticides, but the spray killed the natural predators of bollworms. Now the lygus bug is fading, while the bollworm is on the march. University of California at Berkeley Entomologist Robert van den Bosch blames "insecticide salesmen hustling their products" and the "stupidity" of an undiscriminating use of pesticides for aggravating the problem...
...Springsteen leaps into an audience, playing with them, strutting and joking, he cuts up like a star. Yet he also cracks self-deprecating jokes during performances and just recently defaced his own billboard above Sunset Strip with a can of spray paint. His myths are in his music, not in his life. The Jersey shore he sings about is becoming universal territory, and his mentions of Asbury Park are greeted with home-town cheers everywhere. But he remains wary of celebrity, recalling, "When I was a kid, what mattered to me more than the performers was the power...
...high up the valley in grottoes of bronze-lichened boulders and a shady riverside of pine and walnut and warm banks of fern. Where morning sun lights the red leaves and the dark still conifers, the river sparkles in the forest shad ow; turquoise and white, it thunders past spray-shined boulders, foaming pools, in a long rocky chute of broken rapids. In the cold breath of the torrent, the dry air is softened by mist; this water trickled through the snow under last night's stars. At the head of the waterfall, downstream, its sparkle leaps into...