Journey to Mars

How far we have come!  Forty nine years ago the world was forever changed.  February 20, 1962
found Americans glued to their televisions sets as John Glen journeyed into space.  We all watched as the rocket propelled him into the relatively unknown world of outer space.  He orbited the earth three times and in so doing opened the door to further space research and travel.  I was thirteen and totally captivated.  It was such an exciting time as America competed with Russia to go the farthest, the fastest--it was all about being the best.

My generation has been privileged to see the advancements in space exploration from its first conception.  I remember dark nights in the backyard watching for satellites to pass over and thinking how amazing it was that an object could continuously circled the planet and not fall back toward earth.
A new world and vocabulary was opening up.  I watched the first moon landing on TV totally captivated by such an unbelievable event.  The country was united and  differences were put aside as the nation celebrated the victory.   There was a sense of pride and excitement shared by Americans as the space race moved forward.

Nolan and I watched launches as kids.  They were always a topic of discussion in school as each mission advanced in duration and sophistication.  If a launch took place during school time a television was hooked up in the lunch room so we could watch.  Everything about space was new and fascinating, still a little bit magical.  The beginning was a series of baby steps as knowledge about space exploration and what it held for the future began to build.


By the time our children were in school, space exploration was something they saw as nothing out of the ordinary.  The last fifty years have been full of wonder and zest to go further and farther.  Now we stretch out to planets that have been beyond our reach. What once seemed only possible in a science fiction movie is moving closer to reality.  How much is yet to be achieved is still a big question waiting to be answered.


The latest vehicle was launched into space on November 26th.  The Mars Science Laboratory  Curiosity will arrive on Mars in August 20012.  Nolan and I will follow its journey closely and with more than just a casual interest.  We watched the launch the of Curiosity up close and personal.  It is hard to explain the emotions that were aroused as the rocket left the pad and moved toward the sky.  The intensity and color of the flame as ignition took place was unexpected.  It was a brilliant orange.  The energy of the rocket thrust was surprising.  Imagination is no substitute for the real thing.  Being present you understand the amount of energy it takes to accomplish such an undertaking.  The anticipation builds as the final countdown begins.  In one voice everyone counts down the last ten seconds. A roar of ignition and the flame builds as the rocket leaves the pad.  It is followed by  cheers and yells.  Every person is caught up in the emotions of those few seconds.  For a brief period we are all united by the experience; just proud Americans grateful to stand there together and share the moment as one.

WOW! what a thrill to be there---MSL  A long journey about 45-50 million miles to Mars!  Scheduled arrival is August of 2012.  GO CURIOSITY!

All Things New

Here we are in Florida--Coca Beach for a week.  We have the opportunity of a life time.  Saturday Nolan and I will be at Kennedy Space Center watching the launch of the Curiosity, the Mars Science Laboratory.  After watching space launches since we were children we will actually be part of one in person--how exciting!  Sometimes life presents us with a gift that is totally unexpected.

We spent today exploring the area.  It is refreshing to have the opportunity to see new territory.  What is fun and interesting to us is probably boring to the natives.  Palm trees, ocean, sand, colorful kites flying on the beach and wild life that is totally foreign is like a walk through a picture book.  It was impossible to drive by the alligator on the road side.  We were not the only outsiders who had to stop for photos.  It was us and the couple from Italy.  I suppose an alligator here compares to seeing deer in Idaho--a common sight. 

Last night we attended a reception for the  MSL project participants and those invited to the launch and work shop. The NASA director gave a few remarks. He made a point of reminding everyone that we should be proud of this endeavour as Americans.   Everyone is part of the success.  It was refreshing and up lifting to be reminded of what is positive about our nation and put the negative aspects aside.  He said one of the most thrilling experiences is watching the launch of a vehicle that actually leaves this planet and moves toward an object in space.  So far out there--what an accomplishment for man.

This isn't Idaho

   
My Little mind is trying to wrap its self  around the sun shine and warmth.Yesterday we were dressing to keep warm and today we are trying to shed the layers.  The Idaho weather is left behind for a few days with much celebration.  Orland seems like another world.  It certainly doesn't take one long to adjust to a bright sky and 80 degree temps.  I wonder if people living here ever long for snow, cold and wind?  No, I don't think so.

I walked along the vast stretch of beach letting the water tease my feet.  There is something that has always drawn me to the ocean.  Is it the sound, the energy of the water or the dancing waves?  I came back with my pockets full of shells that I will add to shell jar. 

While Nolan attends NASA workshops and gets smarter and smarter, I just wander aimlessly absorbing the sights and noise of a new and different place.  For me the lack of structure and schedules is like a drink in the desert.  Let's face it, I enjoy turning my brain off now and again.  I think it needs a break and who am I to deny such a simple pleasure. 

My simple pleasure was spying a jello fish during my walk.  Something new for me and if felt it was a photo moment. Everyone walked on by--I guess they have seen one before.

In order to get to this paradise there several hours of chaos that had to be endured .  I suppose it was a small price to pay.

I am not, by any means, the super woman of holiday decor and frolics these days.   I move slowly from one celebration to the next with a sense of dread and obligation to participate.  There was a time in my life when I thought I needed decorations for every festive day that appeared on the calendar.  I couldn't wait to drag the boxes out and get started.   I saved, stored and boxed glass eggs, plaster eggs, and sugared eggs.  The snow man made of quilt batting that one of the kids made in school was gently wrapped each January to insure its safety through the coming months.   I had center pieces for the table to commemorate the numerous holidays.  It did not seem like a huge undertaking to move from holiday to holiday.  I gracefully moved through the transition with little irritation and stress.  The months must have passed slower, because I was never behind.  Now for some reason I am always playing catch up.


Thanksgiving has not even arrived and the shelves in the stores are devoid of Thanksgiving adornments.  The Christmas music is blasting through the mall and Walmart is a junky mess.  My fall wheat is still on the table along with the pilgrims and pumpkins.  The Halloween pumpkins are still on the porch--granted they are plastic so they haven't rotted--but is it really time for Christmas lights and wreaths? 

There is something not right about this whole holiday thing.  One just blends into the other and soon they become one big ball rolling out of control and continually gathering speed.  If decorations for Christmas are available in the stores the last of October, maybe we should skip November and move onto December and then there would only be one big meal to fix and plan.

                                                                                       

I just can't feel Christmas yet.  The pumpkins and pilgrims haven't over stayed their welcome yet so I am hesitant to ask them to leave before they have had their last hurrah.












I must face the truth and quit making excuses for my failure to participate with an eager spirit and artistic flare.  The honest truth is--I am being pushed faster than I want to go.  Let me keep my wheat and little people on the table two more weeks then I will gently pack them away along with the plastic pumpkins on the porch and move them to the basement to rest until next fall.  If that is possible then I will be able to make the transition form yellow and gold to red and green.  The tree will appear as well as the center piece for the table.  The snow globes will find there place under the tree so little hands can shake them and I might just put little lighted trees on the porch to fill the spot once occupied by pumpkins.  Eventually I will be ready for Christmas just in time to get the Valentine decorations out.

Slowing Down

As Garrison Keillor would say, "It has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon.  I must say it has been a quiet week here in Southeastern Idaho. October and November are the precursor of seasonal changes.  I always feel a desperate need to hang on to October.  Warm days and chilly evenings are great for walks and bike rides.  By the end of the month the day light is noticeable shorter.  There is something about the shortening of the day that forewarns of long winter nights.

Yesterday was one of those golden jewel days that we often get as last present before fall gives way to winter; a bright sky with a few clouds slowly building as the day matured and sun low in the sky. When a day like that comes along you grab it and run.  We drove through the Teton Valley.  The summer visitors are gone and the skiers have not yet arrived.  Only a touch of snow capped the mountain tops and a few leaves still remained on the trees.

There was a feeling of solitude and a quiet sense of contentment.  Yesterday was indeed a rare gift, for tonight a soft snow is falling.  It is wet and won't last, but it is an announcement that fall has marched on and that is as it should be.  The cycle continues and things around us slow down.  We become semi home bodies and pass the time inside rather than outside.  Maybe this is how it was meant to be.  Possibly we need a time for thought, renewal and a time to appreciate the cycle of the seasons and what each brings.

The Wine of California

  

Fall has made her appearance, but with a little less splendor this year.  She brought an early snow storm that broke tree limbs and pulled the loaded apple branches to the ground.  October is always a month with a big question mark.  We left Idaho the first week of October to visit the Sonoma Valley in California.  The snow storm arrived without us being here.  No sadness in missing it--no remorse at all.  California welcomed us with warm temperatures and occasional rain showers; much better than snow.
We had wanted to make a trip to the wine country to see if it was really as outstanding as everyone professed it to be--and it was 

The vineyards were just waiting to give up their crops.  The grapes hung in heavy dark clusters soaking up the late fall sun in a final attempt to reach perfection.  The sweet fragrant smell hung over the valley from the grapes that had already been picked and crushed.  There is something akin to magic as you immerse yourself in the area.  The straight rows of vines trailing along the trellises are so perfect.  It is obvious they are tended with care, patience, and love.  The low rolling hills open up to endless vineyards and wineries.

So close to home, yet so far.  This must surely be Italy or France.  Everything reads like the picture books I have devoured.  We road bikes along the curving road in Dry Creek Valley which provided a more intimate close up experience.  Each curve, every hill gave us a new picture.  Biking along the road you notice things you would other wise miss.  The slower pace allows for frequent stops to take pictures and just enjoy the moment.  We found a country store where lunches were prepared with farm fresh produce.  It is hard to believe as you sit on the porch looking at the arces of vines that a city of 170,000 people is 15 miles away.  The valley is like a secret.

The wineries hide behind the vines and are reached by roads lined with rose bushes or beds of perennials.  Some sit atop a hill watching over the valley.  We visited as many as we could squeeze into a day.  All have a sense of elegance and welcome you to just browse; buy some cheese, a t-shirt, jam and of course the wine.  They are great places to rest on benches in the gardens and we watched humming birds and chickens.  If we went back a dozen times we still would not see them all.

This was definitely not southeastern Idaho.  It was farm country, but not the potatoes, hay, or grain we are accustomed to.  But there are similarities;  every farmer loves his land and the crops he grows.  There is a tie to the land they all share and the battles are the same.  The weather is always a constant threat.  Sometimes it is friendly and without warning it can turn its back.   What we saw was the end result of hard work, monetary investment, and worry.  To us it was pure enjoyment and a new and different view of this vast country.  If you don't get out of your box how will you ever know how many other boxes are out there waiting to be explored.

Craters of the Moon

Craters of the Moon National Monument--

Such a rough land scape.  Yet, it has its own beauty that sets it apart--a quality of beauty that makes it unique.  Cinder cones line the skyline in their various shapes and heights.  As the light moves and shifts the colors change from dark, almost black to a deep grey.  Hardy conifers have found places to dig their roots into the fertile volcanic soil and hold tenaciously, grabbing whatever water comes their way.
Monkey brush, with its yellow blooms stands among the lava adding sparks of color to the arid landscape.

 Everything that grows here is tough!  Nothing lives lightly in this space.  Sage brush sends a tap root 6 to 10 feet deep into the soil to drink in long-lasting ground water.  The shallow roots near the surface absorb rainfall and a deeper set of roots extract water that soaks into the soil as the winter snowpack melts.  So well adapted for survival, it was created to live here.

The wind whispers across the piles of lava  stirring the vegetation, then suddenly it changes and windy gusts push in rocking the trees back and forth.  It leaves as abruptly as it arrives.  I try to imagine, as I take in the vast view, what it must have been like thousands of years ago during the creation process: the smell, noise, color, the heat.  There was no one to hear its birth or watch its miraculous development.  Craters saved its comeliness and waited to be found.

I can understand why the people who manage Craters of the Moon have a special feeling for it. This park is extrodinary and in a class of its own.  I can appreciate Nolan's growing attachment to Craters as he spends summer weekends there presenting astronomy programs.  It may not be extremely green nor does it have water the eye can see.  If it did-- wouldn't it just look so much like everything else?

Everyone finds the solar scope interesting.  Who doesn't want to see sun spots.

From a distance this plant looks like a cluster of white flowers--touch it and it is soft and shrub like.