(October 11, 2015 at 4:02 pm)jenny1972 Wrote:(October 11, 2015 at 3:48 pm)SteelCurtain Wrote: Did you take a picture? Did anyone corroborate that saw what you saw?
My first instinct, if I see something that seems to defy the laws of physics, is to grab someone else and get them to tell me what they see. Barring that, I have an 18 MegaPixel camera in my pocket at all times.
if you really seen something that defied the laws of physics i think you would be shocked and scared although all people are different and react differently to things during the time it was happening i thought it was a man made environmental disaster thats what i immediately assumed , i went inside my house and everytime i tried to go back to the spot i couldnt go back to it or go past my porch because i was overcome with emotion every time i tried although i couldnt understand why .
however even if i did take a picture who on earth would believe in God because of a picture?
My first reaction is woah wtf grab a camera. What's more isbthat that is actually very common with rain where I'm from. Ive seen plenty of times where it is wet on my cars rear window and not the front, when first getting in the car. Its a far bit rarer with snow because of the aerodynamics of a snow flake, it would require the air to very still. Where as with water droplets its harder for the wind to act on them.
Here is what I don't understand. First off why leap to the conclusion that this is a violation of the laws of nature? Secondly why feak out so much? Thirdly why base the conclusion that there is a god on intrusive thoughts that you had in a extremely emotional state.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
