Word: twigged
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...incredible, indubitable, indisputable mystery, life's history, in renaissance. Twig-twirling, bud-curling flora recommence their reproductive cycles. Birds are winging, children singing, men malingering. Chlorophyll fills the hill. Gauzy moths froth their troths. Saps stir...
When the sun has set, the guardian ants come out of the burrow and climb into the bush. They inspect every twig and leaf, looking for marauders, especially the fierce, predatory ants that infest the pinewoods and would quickly slaughter the caterpillars. When Ross put spiders or beetles on the bushes, the protecting ants found them at once and quickly dragged them away. About 7:30 p.m., the caterpillar is let out of its burrow. Shepherded by the carpenter ants, it climbs to the topmost leaves of the bush and starts feeding greedily. The ants climb aboard and drink...
...Accommodation. Common folk still sought a king's touch as the cure for scrofula, still believed that the twitching of a hazel twig betrayed the nearness of criminals, still looked to omens and cabalistic signs as a guide to the future. The Swedish poet Georg Stiernhielm was accused of witchcraft for burning a peasant's beard with a magnifying glass, and witches would continue to stalk the lands of Europe for as long as King Louis lived (Durant reports that in Scotland the last one was sent to the stake in 1722). But at the same time, Hooke...
Even in an age of sexual laxity, the marquis was often in prison for sexual offenses. In a frolic in Marseille, four prostitutes took turns flailing De Sade with a twig broom (they had refused to use his favorite whip studded with nails). Then De Sade fed a girl candies which she claimed were poisoned, but which De Sade insisted were only aphrodisiacs. The girl became so ill she went to the police. De Sade, who skipped town in the nick of time, was condemned to death in absentia and burned in effigy. When he ran off with his wife...
...Estoril?" New Middle Class. Whoever runs Spain next will inherit a country slowly, painfully outgrowing the isolation and poverty of centuries. In old Castile, land of santos y cantos (saints and songs), village steeples are inhabited by storks, the near-sacred birds of Spain, standing high in their twig nests and fanning their young with great wings. The gypsies were on the road last week, trekking north for the summer. In hot. sunny squares, cavernous cathedrals waited, filled with cool air and the dusty odor of saintly bones in silver boxes...