The atoms of my youth.

My fascination with the unseen universe started at a more or less early age. I must have been around 6 years old when I first started to notice how structure and symmetry, as I would come to know it future years, play a large role in how everything exists.
My first experience was right at home. A television set is relatively simple on the outside: a large glass screen, a rectangular box that encased the screen in order to protect it, several inlets for RCA plugs, small buttons arranged neatly next to each other for various controls, and a corked rod with a small hole in it where you could attach a coaxial cable to receive data. As we all know, the inside is a completely different story, once you remove the plastic covering the television set has, there is another world within, in fact, it almost resembles a small city. Transistors, capacitors, diodes, all arranged atop a relatively small board plastered with magnetic strips that allows information and electricity to flow freely between the aforementioned pieces, and above the board lords a giant cathode tube; a tube which contains an electron gun (quite appropriately named since it the source of electrons in a cathode tube). Its main function is often taken for granted, the process that happens within is fantastic; the electron gun fires off an electron beam which is bent, accelerated and deflected to form the images we see on screen. One of my earliest experiments I recall was pouring a glass of water into a television set in my mother's bedroom, oblivious to the catastrophic results, my inquiries lead me to understand that systems depend on subsystems to function, and perhaps more profoundly, to exist at all.
The second encounter with a concrete example of symmetry and order came in the form of entomology. As a child I was (and still am) fascinated by insects, particularly ants. These little arthropods are meticulous in their planning, their execution is flawless. I would spend hours watching long lines of ants travelling from one place to another, they would occasionally bump into each other, however this would not dissuade or confuse them, they would simply feel each other for a moment and continue on their way. I remember thinking how mechanical their interactions with the outer world and each other were, when it came to foreign objects they needed only to probe its outskirts, sometimes not even nearing it to determine whether or not it was favorable to approach, in fact they rarely often ventured from the chemical trail left by the first scouts that had already explored the area. Their nature fascinated me and to this day it still does, such a high degree of order is worthy of admiration.
The third, and perhaps most meaningful encounter with the unseen world came when I was in the 6th grade. I must have been around 11 or 12 years old and it occurred in my science class. My teacher began to tell us about these very small objects known as atoms, she told us that there was such a great number of them contained in the universe, and even in the air around us, that we would go insane if we were able to see them. It was a particularly gripping statement, I had never considered everything around me as anything other than what it was, everything around me was simply defined by its function, as far as I knew, the world was an empty husk that man had filled with purpose. Looking back on it, her claim is perhaps one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard, as a child I believed I could see atoms. Sometimes when our eyes are still or focused, a thin, fuzzy layer of dots seems to cover our visible field, being an impressionable child I could only assume that these were atoms and that I was witnessing them fill the world around me, they swirled and danced elegantly swallowing everything up with their invisible graces and there I was, a boy who for no apparent reason was fortunate enough to see it all happening. Of course, presumably I am more educated now and I know this is not the case, but at times, when in the peaceful quiet of my solitude I ponder, and I often find myself staring into infinity only to find myself still trying to catch glimpses of the atoms of my youth.