ISS ISS ICC I

(photo courtesy of spaceweather.com)

I watched the owner of the company turn and leave my office, head bent in despair (though he’d never admit to it) and shuffled down the hallway with a slight limp. I looked at my desk of organized chaos and stared at my latest scribbling. The market was down another 400 points and that was all he came to say. Frankly, I’m just numb to the caprices of the market and knew that I would hear more of the gory details when “B” got home, given her job with an investment firm. Earlier the owner had stepped in and said that our November sales were better than last year. The irony of these 2 announcements was not lost, but my sense of humor has taken a sabbatical. My many-faceted reverie was shattered by my phone buzzing a maniacal tattoo on the desk. It was “B”.

“Hey you!”

“Hey yourself!”

“Market sucks, huh?”

“Yeah, we’re in distraction mode here.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, we’ve got the space station site up and we’re supposed to get a flyover this evening…ummm…6:20.”

Two techs appeared at the door and I held up a finger for them to hang on.

“Got the info up? What’s the AZ?”

“Ummmm…10 degrees SW.”

“Sweet! Best view on the property.”

“We haven’t seen it yet have we?”

“Nope! Tried, but nope.”

“Gotta go. Mopey clients.”

“Meet you at 6:15 in the south forty with Pinot and glasses.”

“HA! Later. Find the binoculars.”

I hung up thinking that maybe this day was salvageable after all.

We popped the cork at 6:05 to the last of the sunset and toasted the lucky bastards who were on board the ISS (International Space Station), fully prepared to wave them on their journey. There were a couple of deer browsing in the pasture and we were joined by a few of our fox: Simon, Rowdy and L’il Bit were on the pasture side and Samantha was sitting on a rock near the well garden – perhaps they thought food was involved. All three cats were taking turns menacing each other, but generally hanging close and weaving their blankets of felinius obscura in between our legs.

I looked at the time on the cell phone and it was 6:16. It was time and we trained our eyes toward 10 degrees above the SW horizon. There it was, an almost imperceptible tiny dot, picking up speed and brightness as it rose into the twilight. We were both awestruck. I was unprepared for the speed, the brightness and the punctuality. The sheer magnitude of the effort and engineering to put this celestial body into orbit struck us both at the same time. We waved and wished them safe passage.

We both remember watching ECHO 1A and its successor, ECHO 2 cross the night sky of our youth. Both were essentially big metallic balloons, 30 and 40 meters respectively. The first was placed into orbit on August 12, 1960 and we spent many a night on blankets on the front lawn watching its outworld traverse across the night sky. NASA and the space program then was the stuff of dreams and stories and the summer lawn watches were always impromptu neighborhood gatherings. Living under the ever present fear of the “A” Bomb it was a wonderful to view such unfathomable technological advancement as existed in the space program in a different, far more benign light.

Walking back up the drive I was pleased to feel something “awesome and magnificent” in my sphere, pleased it graced our skies and pleased that we saw it.