Not long ago I was on my way back
from visiting NGC-1365, a beautiful barred spiral galaxy in the southern
constellation of Fornax. The first great conjunction
of the 21st century was just a few months away and I was hoping to
see it from the Kuiper belt. In the mean time I would
head for the red planet and visit the Tharsis Ridge
and Olympus Mons; the biggest volcano in our solar
system.
Perhaps no other planet
fascinates mankind more then Mars. As for myself,
Saturn was my fascination. I stopped for a moment to look at our beautiful
Milky Way Galaxy from deep space. I wish that everyone on the surface of the
earth could see where it floats and how it spins. I was moving at the speed of
light and almost at the edge of the Heliopause when I
noticed an anomaly; a light distortion.
I would not have given it another
look, except the stars seemed closer and the planets much brighter than usual.
Saturn really caught my eye, her brightness obscured her rings and moons and I
wondered about Phoebe, her eighteenth moon. Her retrograde orbit has always
fascinated me and I’ve always enjoyed telling her stories of my adventures upon
my blue earth and of being human.
Being human.
It seems like only yesterday I was a man and walked upon the earth, indeed with
all my strengths and frailties and often at the mercy of my emotions. Human
emotions; I think they’re the source of our strength and weaknesses. Feelings
are like strings connected to the heart and once vibrated we dance. The task of
living can be many things for indeed life is infinitely complex. There is a
delicate balance between reality and the perception of reality and we dance in
accordance with that perception.
Yet for others life is a matter
of constant struggle and survival it seems. At times it can be overwhelming,
but whatever it is, it’s all a part of the human condition. I’ve often wondered
what can measure the depth and strength of the human heart and soul; the mind
and body that moves with such capacity and dexterity upon the earth. It had
been a while since my last visit with Phoebe so I headed for Saturn; that
mystifying planet with unattached rings. As I came out of light speed I saw
them, immense blue and red giant stars ten times the mass of our sun and moving
towards our solar system. I was stunned and in disbelief for the gravitational
pull of these massive stars could cause our sun to lose it’s
hold on the nine planets and their moons. I was trying to orient myself to our
local stars but couldn’t pin point their locations?
I was just about to enter Saturn’s
space when our sun, by way of a comet, summoned me-- “Hear me, oh poet to the
stars.” The comet cried out--
“Hear me,
there is trouble in the universe, unrest among the stars! The supergiants are angry with you and with our yellow sun. You
must return now for they are threatening to go supernova in Copernican space!”
Why would the giant stars destroy Copernican, I wondered? In a
matter of seconds the comet was gone and so I headed towards our sun. I must
admit I was concerned. The blue and red giant stars were dangerously close. I
couldn’t help but to wonder what could be wrong for out here there is order.
When I was a man and lived upon the earth, I would often walk out during the
magic hours of the twilight and contemplate the structure of the universe.
Is it random and chaotic or is it
orderly and intelligible? As I got closer I could see that our sun had swelled
considerably. Obviously my first concerns were of the inferior Planets;
Mercury, the messenger of the gods and Venus, the goddess of sexual love and
physical beauty whose light shines brightly upon my blue earth. My blue earth,
indeed I was concerned. With only a ten-degree change in temperature the polar
ice caps would melt and sea levels would rise.
I had returned home to an
unfamiliar universe, a solar system in chaos, and the impending death of our
sun, the nine planets and their moons. The known constellations were now like
strangers in the night sky; none were recognizable for there were so many stars
around them. They had become impossible to identify. When I reached our sun I
was in awe for only gravity keeps our massive yellow star in check.
Though 93 million miles away, we
feel its warmth, its influence upon the earth. Its thunderous crackling sounds
as it expands and then contracts captivated me but I kept my wits about me as I
moved closer and gazed upon its awesome power . . .