The eastern black rail is small, secretive, mysterious and in trouble. It’s a sparrow-sized marsh bird. It hardly ever flies, and gets around by creeping through dense wetland vegetation.
Chuck Bailey says it is some of the ugliest stone he’s ever seen. Bailey has looked at a lot of stone. He’s professor and chair of William & Mary’s Department of Geology.
Moses and Aaron, the Old Testament tells us, had to make bricks without straw before their people could leave Egypt and begin the journey to the Promised Land. Bob and Dick have to figure out how to make bricks from regolith before their people can leave Earth and begin colonizing Mars.
Shane Lawler was taking care of business in a loblolly pine, 90 feet above Gospel Spreading Farm, unfazed by the agitated bald eagles spiraling around his head. "All right!" he yelled to Bryan Watts, waiting at the base of the tree. "I've got one bird in a bag."
Some visitors to tribeHacks stepped out of Small Hall onto the William & Mary campus on Sunday to enjoy a bit of sun before the presentations got under way. They saw four students, carrying a pair of quadcopters, making their way toward the door.
The peer-review process does for science what the checks and balances system is supposed to do for American government.
Online ratings and reviews are a helpful, if imperfect, guide for potential customers.
There is a bit of a mystery surrounding a book at William & Mary.
The subdued color palette of this habitat is reminiscent of west Texas.
All signs indicate that a brew house once stood in the shadow of the Wren Building, but those inclined to toast the rediscovery of a facility that slaked thirsts at William & Mary 300 years ago should really wait until the lab results are in.