The sober experts break out laughing. There are careful, scientific explanations, all untestable: group cohesion and signaling, mate selection, the shedding of parasites, the announcement of a banquet of plankton. But the look the humans share says: What does it look like? Call it what it is. Every dance is a game, and every game its own best explanation. Everything alive, even we newcomers. . . . What are all creatures—even me—doing at all times but playing in the world, playing before their tinkering Lord?
