GeologyJack
New Member
I dreamed I went in to space last night; the feeling was unlike any I could have ever imagined. In day dreams of space, I normally find myself transfixed by the launch, the idea of actually traveling there, but for once, in my head at least, I was there and could enjoy the destination. The sensation that I was unrestrained by my normal two dimensional plane was strange at first but as the dream continued, it became the rule of the land and nothing beyond the ordinary.
The first strange feeling was that I was not actually high above the planet, as you would feel when flying, but instead I was alongside the fragile blue and green sphere. Looking at the Earth was not like looking down; no amount of swimming in a pool could have prepared me for this revelation. From the other window of the craft, I no longer felt like I was looking up at the stars; I did not need to strain my neck upwards to get a grasp of how huge the universe was, for once I felt like I was a part of the whole equation of existence.
For someone who had been trained in a life of experiencing nearly 12 hours of light followed by 12 hours of dark, it did not go beyond noticing that the day/night cycle was significantly faster in orbit, each sunrise came beautifully unexpected and at a delightful frequency, over the course of an hour I could see beautiful glimpses of the moon, clearer than ever, the darkness of night over the continents, and the ever changing vistas on the side of daylight, each storm was both stationary yet moving at once; I wanted to capture every moment of it as though I would never see anything as beautiful again.
Waking up from such a dream is one of the eternally tragic parts of being bound to the surface of the Earth; as beautiful as the planet is, it is only one of the countless wonders of this vast and impressive universe.
The first strange feeling was that I was not actually high above the planet, as you would feel when flying, but instead I was alongside the fragile blue and green sphere. Looking at the Earth was not like looking down; no amount of swimming in a pool could have prepared me for this revelation. From the other window of the craft, I no longer felt like I was looking up at the stars; I did not need to strain my neck upwards to get a grasp of how huge the universe was, for once I felt like I was a part of the whole equation of existence.
For someone who had been trained in a life of experiencing nearly 12 hours of light followed by 12 hours of dark, it did not go beyond noticing that the day/night cycle was significantly faster in orbit, each sunrise came beautifully unexpected and at a delightful frequency, over the course of an hour I could see beautiful glimpses of the moon, clearer than ever, the darkness of night over the continents, and the ever changing vistas on the side of daylight, each storm was both stationary yet moving at once; I wanted to capture every moment of it as though I would never see anything as beautiful again.
Waking up from such a dream is one of the eternally tragic parts of being bound to the surface of the Earth; as beautiful as the planet is, it is only one of the countless wonders of this vast and impressive universe.
