November 6th 2011
Driving home last night was not tiring at all. I had a few drinks and a coffee to keep me going.
As the sun slooped beneath the western sky and sunk under the pacific the stars came out. It's been a while since I've seen stars. I live in Costa Mesa now, far away from any open field where man made light doesn't touch.
Seeing stars for the first time in a while connected me to the thought of NASA. The final shuttle has been launched and our space program is now retired.
I think of Ed White and the first space walk. "Beautiful, just beautiful."
I think the Hubble Telescope, broken and repaired again. Our little lens into worlds so foreign. Where now with a retired space station we only dream about. We see pictures show up on our momnitor and say, "Well we never made it, but hopefully our kids do."
I think of Mars rovers and terraforming. Old sci-fi books and movies where the possibility seemed so real.
I think of the MIR space station floating about the planet earth long after we parish. Without ever collecting dust on the inside. Perhaps some old garment will be found by a foreign species and tossed aside without notice to the nametag of the individual who once wore this suit.
I think of how we as a people reached the stars and came across the heavens only to realize we had no use of it.
Driving home last night was not tiring at all. I had a few drinks and a coffee to keep me going.
As the sun slooped beneath the western sky and sunk under the pacific the stars came out. It's been a while since I've seen stars. I live in Costa Mesa now, far away from any open field where man made light doesn't touch.
Seeing stars for the first time in a while connected me to the thought of NASA. The final shuttle has been launched and our space program is now retired.
I think of Ed White and the first space walk. "Beautiful, just beautiful."
I think the Hubble Telescope, broken and repaired again. Our little lens into worlds so foreign. Where now with a retired space station we only dream about. We see pictures show up on our momnitor and say, "Well we never made it, but hopefully our kids do."
I think of Mars rovers and terraforming. Old sci-fi books and movies where the possibility seemed so real.
I think of the MIR space station floating about the planet earth long after we parish. Without ever collecting dust on the inside. Perhaps some old garment will be found by a foreign species and tossed aside without notice to the nametag of the individual who once wore this suit.
I think of how we as a people reached the stars and came across the heavens only to realize we had no use of it.
