Perspective

First of all, I want to apologize for not posting in August. I think that's the first month I've missed!

I held off for most of August because I thought I was going to have a great post. I thought I was all set to describe with full enthusiasm the total solar eclipse that I'd witnessed.

As so many things in life go, it didn't quite work out that way.

I'd planned ahead. I had the day off from work. I had the official solar eclipse glasses. I had selected my route and I even had a companion for the journey to St. Joseph, Missouri. That was going to be one of the top spots to see the eclipse, so that's where I was going. Never mind that the forecast said it would probably rain.

We drove up there and passed through a very heavy downpour around Kansas City, but it didn't last long and we managed to avoid the crowds to find an ideal spot in the parking lot of an abandoned grocery store. It was partly cloudy, but we could still see the moon starting to cover a little bit of the sun. I'll admit that it was a pretty amazing sight.

Then it clouded over. Then it rained. We couldn't see the sun at all anymore.

As I despaired, my companion reminded me that we would still experience totality: the darkness, not the actual sight of the moon covering the sun. I tried to take some comfort in that, and it was pretty cool when the sky got darker. The temperature fell and everything looked eerie. The horizon turned sunset colors of pink and orange. Those two minutes were unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

Then the sun came back out and it was still cloudy. Not only that, traffic was so bad that it took us an extra two hours to get home, after sitting motionless several times in bumper-to-bumper vehicles. Meanwhile, we listened to people on the radio tell us how incredible it was to see the corona.

It took a few days for me to be able to consider the trip without bitterness. It didn't seem fair that so many people got to see the full eclipse and I didn't. It stung when other people gushed about how spectacular it was.

But when I think about it, it was my fault. Weather forecasters aren't perfect, but when they say it's going to be cloudy, all the wishful thinking in the world won't clear the sky. I was stubborn: I had a St. Joseph eclipse T-shirt, so I was going to St. Joseph! Next time I'll listen to the forecasters and try to be more flexible.

I have less than seven years to think about that while I'm planning for the next one.

Me in aforementioned T-shirt August 2017

Transition

Tomorrow is the First Day of Spring.

That phrase means many things to me. It means sunlight, warmth, birds, flowers, baseball, hope. It means I can think about travel and birding and long walks in the park. It means I won't huddle inside, shivering in the darkness even when the furnace is running.

Later, there will be bugs, loud motorcycles, people not wearing enough clothing ... But I won't think about that now.

Phlox in our front yard March 2017

For now, I'll look at the flowers that survived the sudden frost this past week and I'll smile. Winter has been vanquished once again ... at least temporarily.

I wouldn't have it any other way. What I mean is this: I wouldn't enjoy spring if I hadn't had to struggle through winter first. It's only months of neutral colors and chilly temperatures that can make this season so special.

Grape hyacinth in our front yard March 2017

If there were hyacinth blooming all year long, would I even notice them after a while? Probably not. If there were mockingbirds here all the time, would I cherish the first time I hear that unique series of songs and calls coming from atop a telephone pole? Nope. If I had to mow the grass all year long, would the sight of green in the yard make me happy? Certainly not.

I salute winter for making me appreciate spring. I can still recall snuggling under a pile of covers, happy to be safe and warm, dreaming of long days and a time when I could put hats, gloves and coats into storage. I'm grateful that winter gives way for a while, allowing us to take a deep breath of fresh air without making our lungs hurt.

Flowers in our back yard March 2017

I might even miss winter eventually. But not now.

Happy Spring!

Winter Show

I’m not fond of several aspects of winter: the cold, the long nights, the relative lack of wildlife and birds.

But these past few weeks, I’ve discovered something, a bonus that makes me a little more tolerant of the lengthening night (and the end of Daylight Saving Time).

When I step outside after a day of work, I’m facing west and I’m confronted by a sunset. The nearby buildings and trees aren’t tall enough to block it. I can’t bury my face in a book or hide inside four walls because I have to walk to my car if I want to get home.

In other words, I can’t miss it.

So I stop. I stare. I marvel.

The sun has usually just gone away, leaving a bright flare of yellow, orange and peach. Above my head are the clouds, which come in all shapes and, more importantly, colors. They’re white, gray, light blue, purple, yellow. They’re edged with orange, pink, purple and dark blue as the sunlight reaches out before slipping over the horizon. If I’m lucky, the display is accented by the sliver of a pale moon.

I stand there in awe as co-workers scurry past me, rushing to the comfort of their cars. I don’t even realize my breath is visible or my hands are going numb.

Winter is a time of neutral colors: white, gray, brown. But she has a few tricks up her sleeve, and this one is magical.

By the time I get home, it’s usually dark and the colors are gone. But they live on in my memory, enough to hold me until the next day when the show begins again.

There will be sunsets in the spring and summer, but I’ll most likely miss them.

Right now I have no choice, and I’m glad.

Here’s to beauty in unlikely places and times.

Speak Out

I was brought to tears this week as I heard tales from survivors of the massacre in Orlando. The unthinkable had happened to them and they struggled to make any sense of it, as we all must do.

I wanted to do something, to write something. That’s what I do: I write through things and sometimes that helps.

But I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t find the right words. So many have spoken so eloquently about what happened there that I didn’t think I could compete.

Then I realized: I don’t need or want to compete. I want to join those voices.

Those of us who choose love, tolerance and kindness need to do this more often. We need to make it clear that hatred will not win. It MUST NOT win.

We must be strong, stand up and declare that we are on the side of those who wish to spread cheer, hugs and laughter. We are on the side of those who care for each other and want only to live in peace.

Those on the side of hatred think that we’re weak, but we’re not. If we’re so weak, why do they need to keep killing us?

No, they fear us. We are the ones who can make a real difference.

So let us all stand up and choose love. Let us proclaim it from wherever we are, in whatever words we can find: we choose LOVE.

And we’re not afraid to say it.

Darkness Falls

Part of my job involves taking calls from customers regarding their ads. This position rotates through my department and my turn ended at the beginning of this month, but a customer recently called when the designated person was already on the phone so the call rolled to me.

We spent about half an hour on the phone together, going over each portion of each ad, detailing the changes that needed to be made, and through it all, the caller was the epitome of patience and graciousness. When my computer was slow, he told me to take my time. When I didn't understand one of his requests, he reworded it for me until it was clear. He maintained a warm tone and thanked me several times for my help.

The next time he called, which was yesterday, he knew my first name so the operator directed his call to me again. He told me he was very pleased with the look of the ads but he wondered if he could make another small change or two. I told him I would make any changes he requested and we walked through the changes. Again, he was polite and patient. He thanked me for my help and praised the ads.

That same evening, I learned about what had happened in Paris. It might seem that the two things are unrelated ... and yet, they aren't. They both reflect the choice we all have in how we live our lives.

Here was one man who decided that he would approach his interaction with another person using good humor and warmth. He wasn't doing anything heroic, he was simply calling to request a change, but he did it in a way that made my day a little brighter. It didn't take a great deal of effort, but he made that effort and I certainly appreciated it.

Then there was a group of people who decided to act quite differently in Paris. Since we don't know for sure who these people were, I can't name their group (although there are hints of who it was). However, I do know that these people have decided to approach others with hate and murder. It doesn't matter if the people they encounter ever did anything to them or their acquaintances. They might turn on each other if given the right provocation. Whatever the situation, they respond with rage. People who have never met them are forced to deal with the consequences of that rage.

Please think about this the next time you encounter anyone in your life. I'm not suggesting that you will ever feel the need to pull out an AK-47 or a bomb, but we all contribute a little to the world's anger when we decide that politeness doesn't matter, when we snarl at someone who may or may not deserve it. I am as guilty as the next person of occasionally letting a personal feeling of annoyance spill out around me to darken the day of someone else. I need to try harder to remember that each person might be having a good or bad day, but I don't need to make it worse. I don't need to be part of the darkness.

Like the gentleman on the phone, even if I brighten the day of only one person, isn't that worth it? If we all try to do that, we can't solve all of the world's problems, but it might mean that at least there's hope for humanity ... and for peace.

Lunar Eclipse Tonight

What are you planning to do this evening? If you don't have any particular plans, I'd like to suggest that you go outside and stare at the sky.

Okay, I'll be a little more specific. Tonight we'll get both a "supermoon" and the fourth of a lunar tetrad, which will lead to a "blood moon."

A supermoon happens when the moon is full at the time when it's closest to Earth. You won't see the moon filling the sky or anything like that, but it will be a little bigger than usual.

The lunar tetrad is a series of four consecutive total lunar eclipses, which is pretty rare. The blood moon happens when the moon is fully eclipsed and turns a sort of reddish-orange color.

Take a look at this website: timeanddate.com It shows a cool animation of what to expect when you're looking up at the eclipse (no special glasses or shields are necessary for a lunar eclipse). It also gives you a lot of information about where and when you can see it.

I recommend giving it a try. The so-called "blood moon" is a fascinating sight, and it's also interesting to track the path of the eclipse as the moon first darkens (in Earth's penumbra) and then turns color (in Earth's umbra).

As you might guess, I have a certain fondness for anything involving a Penumbra.

I hope you'll give it a try. I plan to be out there, once again baffling the neighbors by standing there with my head thrown back while I stare upward. Maybe they're used to it by now and won't even notice!

Work continues on The Other Side. There's still a lot to be done, but I'll keep working on it. Thanks for following my blog!

Looking Up

I had a pretty amazing experience last night. Actually, I had two.

I went outside mid-evening to take a look at the blue moon (second full moon of the month). It wasn't up yet, but I could see a glow from behind the neighbors' trees that indicated it was on the way. I went inside to finish watching something on television and then I went back outside at 10:00.

Since we have a tree in our front yard, I had to walk down the front sidewalk and along the street a little to see the moon. It was definitely worth it: a big globe of white against the dark sky, framed by a few wispy clouds. I admired that sight for some time, the first amazing experience.

Next I let my eyes roam the sky, taking in the few stars I could see (our streetlight makes most of them invisible). Then I noticed movement and focused on that. There was a gold-tinted dot of light moving steadily over my head, from the southwest to the northeast.

I had only seen it for a few moments when I knew what it was, although I couldn't quite believe that was possible. It's been a few years since I last saw it, but I remembered the experience well: I was seeing the International Space Station!

What are the odds that I would walk out at that particular time, look in that particular direction, and recognize that particular dot of light???

I knew it, though. I was positive! The way it moved made it obvious it wasn't a plane and its size made it obvious it wasn't a satellite. I tried to comprehend that there were humans soaring above me, even while I was scurrying down our street to follow its path. It was visible for a few minutes before it sank out of sight to the northeast.

Only when it was gone did I rush into the house and turn on my laptop. I first checked the HDEV site, which showed me that the trajectory was correct to take the ISS over Kansas. I then checked the NASA site that lists times when the station will be visible for various locations. Both of them confirmed that I had seen the ISS.

If you want to check when you can see the ISS in your area: spotthestation.nasa.gov

If you want to see the view from the ISS: NASA HDEV

July can be a long, hot month, but its last evening was pretty cool for me this year.

Closet Spaceship Part 13

[NOTE: This installment contains a spoiler. If you haven’t read Another Shot yet, I suggest you read it before this blog.]

I’m sure Captain Lamont knew when I was aboard, and he didn’t go out of his way to avoid me, but he didn’t exactly seek me out either … until one day he did.

I was leaning toward a porthole in the dock area, trying to cup my hands tightly around my face so I could see the stars outside instead of reflections from the dock lights.

“You could turn off the lights,” said a voice behind me.

I have to admit that I jumped. I hadn’t heard anyone in the corridor.

“I’m supposed to be an observer,” I said, although I’d just proved how unobservant I can be.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“A recorder,” I said. “And a listener, I guess.”

I could tell he had something on his mind, but I didn’t want to scare him off so I pretended not to notice.

Lamont approached me. “Listening can be useful.”

“So can talking,” I said.

“Sometimes that’s true,” the captain said. “I want to thank you for not letting your visits become too disruptive. I think if you can keep that up, the crew might be a little less skittish.”

“I hope so.” I decided not to tell him about Sean. No need to advertise my spectacular failure there.

Lamont smiled. “Someday you might tell me how you won Nick over.”

“I don’t know that I really—wait a minute,” I said. I didn’t remember seeing the captain anywhere when I talked to Nick.

“I tend to pay attention when there’s shouting in the corridor,” Lamont said.

“Oh,” I said. So much for not being disruptive. “Sorry.”

The captain took a few steps and turned off the lights. “Have a look.”

I turned to stare at the porthole and I think I just sighed. No matter how many times I see it, that view will never get old. I wish I could describe how many stars there were or how beautiful it was with all of the glittering dots of colored light against a black that wanted to swallow them but couldn’t.

“Some people never look at that,” Lamont said. “I try to do it at least once a day.”

I nodded, although he probably couldn’t see me.

“May I ask you something?” he said in a quiet voice.

“Of course,” I said, mostly because it’s what he would have said, but also because I sensed that this was important.

“Some of the crew members have asked me,” he said. “They want to know if you can do anything … I mean, change anything that’s happened.”

Now I could understand why Lamont turned off the lights: I couldn’t see his face. Reggie would want to make Sean part of the crew, Mark would want me to give him more confidence, Nick would like me to fill up his bank account … but they weren’t the ones who were really asking.

“Oh,” I said. It was a tough question. I mean, I could change what I’ve written, but it wouldn’t be true to my characters or the story. So, in a way, I really couldn’t change it.

But how do you explain that? Especially when the captain is asking you to bring his close friend back to life, no matter how indirectly he’s asking. How do you tell him you won’t do it?

I lied: “No, I’m sorry. I can’t change what’s already happened. I only observe.”

After a moment, he said, “I’ll pass that along.”

I heard his footsteps walking toward the corridor and I didn’t have the heart to say any more. I turned to look at the view again, thinking that somehow I didn’t deserve it.

But then I thought about it some more. We’ve all known writers who’ve brought seemingly-dead characters back to life, whether it was for a book, a TV show or a movie, with varied success. Sometimes it seems forced, the writer bowing to the wishes of the readers/viewers.

Now I wonder how many writers have bowed to the wishes of another character.

The footsteps stopped.

“I’m sorry,” the captain said. “I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

“I understand why you did,” I said, “but please don’t do it again.”

He turned on the lights so I could see his face. “I promise.”

Then he was gone.

Taking Flight

My name has already traveled to Mars, which I think is pretty amazing, and now I'm sending it to an asteroid. Thanks to NASA and The Planetary Society, my name will travel to asteroid Bennu, spend 500 days there and then return to Earth. However, my name will also stay in space with the spacecraft that went to the asteroid.

Something about having my name in space is very satisfying. It's not that my name can send me any photos or texts to tell me what it's seeing. It's not that I might get the best postcard ever. It's more a feeling of joining the push to get Out There, the quest to understand what's beyond our planet, our solar system, our galaxy. I've put my stamp of approval on the quest, telling anyone or anything that happens upon the spacecraft in some distant future that I want to see farther. My home planet has a lot going for it, but I want to know what else there is. Since NASA hasn't yet come knocking at my door with an invitation to travel out there myself, I send my name instead.

After the launch in 2016, I can close my eyes and imagine I'm out there with my name, soaring through the darkness toward a new perspective.

If you'd like your name to join mine, here is where you can sign up:
http://www.planetary.org/get-involved/messages/bennu/   If you don't want emails from The Planetary Society, be sure to uncheck the box. When I signed up, I got a cool certificate that I can save and print.

Let's go exploring!

The Latest Title

I've been writing a little about the third novel lately and it occurred to me that I haven't revealed the title of it yet. Are you interested? Read on!

I was doing a reasonable job of keeping the title a secret until a couple of people asked me flat out what it is ... so I told them. Now it just doesn't seem fair to keep it to myself any longer.

Here goes: the title of the third novel is In The Shadows.

As you might guess, I play around a lot with darkness and light in this one. You might recall that Penumbra, the name of Lamont's ship, means an area of shadow that's between the darkest shadow and the light, so it made sense to me that I should explore that a little more.

I'm still rewriting, which is the fun part: I get to play around with scenes and words to see what I can come up with. Eventually, however, I'll have to decide that I've done what I can and it's time to format the final product.

Stay tuned!

Perspective

I've been spending too much time lately staring at the images produced by the cameras aboard the International Space Station.  Here's what I've learned about Earth:
1) It's beautiful.
2) There are a LOT of clouds.
3) The people living on it had enough ingenuity to put a station up there so I could see these amazing views. I'm so lucky!

Another thing I've learned is that no matter what my mood, I will feel better when I look at our blue and white planet from above. For one thing, darkness lasts less than an hour up there, so the sun is going to rise again soon.

And the funny thing is that this is a big theme in my third novel! It couldn't be more timely for me to see the embodiment of darkness giving way to light.

It's dark and scary over there to the left, but all of that is shrinking away against the returning light.

Darkness has its purpose and is not always bad, but it's only part of the equation. The trick is to pass through it without becoming part of it.

And down here on this part of the surface, the days are getting longer.
Enjoy your summer.