Category: The Universe

Dark Side of the Moon

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

DSOTM farside NASALast week I went to the Burke Baker Planetarium at the Houston Museum of Natural Science with my daughter’s family and watched a light show accompanied by music from Pink Floyd. The computer graphic extravaganza shown on the domed roof of the planetarium features the sounds of the rock album Dark Side of the Moon flush with the inventive sounds that made the band so popular. The experience was a feast for the senses that carried my mind and imagination to many places.

Long ago I had spent a similar night out with my daughters and my dear friend Pat and her kids. Because she had an adventurous spirit I never knew what to expect on our excursions and true to form she surprised us one evening with the announcement that we would be attending a laser show at the Burke Baker Planetarium called Dark Side of the Moon. We arrived to find an odd gathering of young couples enjoying date night, sixties hippie throw backs with graying long hair, and groups of college students raucously joking and jabbing at one another. Our menagerie filled the theater and expectantly chattered in the semi-darkness waiting for the program to begin. With the first sound of heartbeats that mark the beginning and end of Pink Floyd’s musical adventure, our “girls‘ night out” became a time to remember, one of the many well orchestrated events planned by Pat.

I find myself missing the excursions with my dear friend and our patient daughters who stoically put up with our embarrassing antics even while they secretly enjoyed them. We ferreted out the Houston nightspots suitable for family and often found ourselves sipping on milkshakes at the 59 Diner at midnight or perusing the musical selections at one of the late night record stores where the only other customers were all decked out in their anti-establishment regalia. Pat of course never met a stranger and loved engaging in conversations with an array of interesting characters who introduced her to the quirky hidden treasures of our city like the Orange Show which we ultimately had to find and experience for ourselves. Pat opened windows on the world that I might never have even noticed had we not enjoyed those grand junkets together.

So it was that I thought of her when I once again sat in a remodeled Burke Baker Planetarium watching an updated version of Dark Side of the Moon. The computer graphics were more intricate than the old rendition and the sound literally reverberated on my skin. The sights and sounds once again drew me in. My mind traveled from the past to the present and into the future. In certain moments I felt as though it was 1972 once again and I was a young twenty something woman living through the excitement of an historical time so chaotic that our human destinies seemed certain to end badly. I was idealistic and rebellious back then, intent on bringing change and universal peace to the world. I identified with the challenging thoughts set forth in the lyrics by Pink Floyd and reveled in the inventiveness of their music. I naively believed that we humans had evolved to a point where we might actually find a way to live together in harmony forevermore.

Of course as I lived through that faraway decade to this moment I watched as humankind made a bit of progress here and there only to revert back to some of our baser habits in so many less than admirable moments. The years taught me that people follow patterns that even our long ago ancestors might have understood. We layer ourselves in the trappings of progress but have bad habits of creating false dichotomies of us versus them. We waste our time on pursuits that bring us only temporary happiness and run after money as though it is the ultimate goal of life. We measure our own worth against what we see as success in others. The brain damage that we inflict upon ourselves when we neglect to just breathe and indulge our senses in the colors of sight and sound that are all around us can leave us gasping for air. When all is said and done, as we find ourselves approaching the last decades of our lives we begin to finally see the world as it actually is rather than how we want it to be.

As I sat in the dark theater with my family sitting nearby I felt a sense of calmness as I pondered the questions posed by Pink Floyd and contemplated the brilliance of our species. My days have now slowed down. I no longer feel a sense of urgency in the things that I do. My goals are geared toward demonstrating the profound love that I feel for the people who populate my little corner of life. I have the luxury of pausing to enjoy the show produced by nature that is even more complex and exciting than anything that has ever been done by man. I appreciate both our glory and our flaws. I hear the heartbeat of mankind’s struggle to become loftier and more noble as well as our breathless sighs that demonstrate how much farther we have to go.

I understand now more than ever how important it is to catch those rainbow moments that my friend Pat invited me to enjoy with her. I realize that even a simple diversion like a light show with music from Dark Side of the Moon might be a life altering experience, a defining memory of friendship and a meeting of minds. It is up to each of us to open our hearts to the possibilities that are all around us and to now and again tarry just long enough to reflect on our progress as people.

The dark side of the moon is not a place without light, but the area of the lunar surface that is unknown to us because it faces away from the earth. There is no doubt  that we have yet to discover much about life and the universe, just as there are potentials within our own minds that have not been plumbed. The frontier inside our souls is worthy of our exploration. Perhaps Pat always understood that in the end it is not up to us to rearrange the trajectory of the world but rather to embrace the power and glory that we already possess and then share what we find out with others. That is when our windows on the universe fly open and we finally see the brilliant light that has always been there. 

Finding Beauty in Humble Places

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Minolta DSCBlessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where others see nothing.

— Camille Pissaro

How does one define beauty? Is it the latest super model on the cover of a magazine? Is it a sleek new car? Perhaps it is a stunning symphony or sunset over the Grand Canyon. For some it might be the laughter of a toddler or the words of a Shakespearean sonnet. For others it is a bouquet of roses or a rare jewel. While these are all stunning examples of loveliness, sometimes it is in the most unlikely corners of the world that we find the most elegant.

I loved my grandmother Minnie’s hands. They were wrinkled, swollen and misshapen. They had tilled soil, picked crops, milked cows, fed chickens and carried heavy loads. They had also held babies, rolled out dough for biscuits, and assembled guilts. They caught Grandma’s tears when her son died and fluttered to her cheeks when something made her laugh. They held a gun to shoot a squirrel for dinner and hauled in many a fish as well. They chopped off the head of a snake with a hoe and mended clothes to be used for another season. They were hard working and loving hands that showed their age without apology. They were indescribably beautiful.

I often find myself gazing at the simple loveliness of a glass of milk. I delight in its creamy color and velvety texture. I enjoy watching the bubbles that sometimes form at its edges when it has been newly poured. I see my good fortune in that liquid that builds bones and provides energy. I wonder how I have always been lucky enough to have as much of it as I have needed while others in the world are denied its hunger chasing powers.

When I attempt to unveil the mysteries of mathematics to my students there is nothing more glorious than the kind of smile that lights up a face at the moment of understanding. It is a marvelous sight indeed. The eyes glow and I can almost see right into the souls of my newfound geniuses. Their mouths curve in an upward smile showing a confidence that wasn’t there only moments before. We share a silent bond of accomplishment. Theirs is the joy of learning and mine is the satisfaction of providing possibilities.

The sound of the school bus stopping on the corner of my street each morning and afternoon tells me that I will soon hear the delightful voices of the youngsters who live in my neighborhood as they laugh and chatter with one another. I exalt in their playfulness and innocence. They remind me of how fantastic the future will most certainly be. The melody of their voices is an alluring concerto.

The first buds of spring, the cooing doves, the tree branches stretching heavenward and the deep blue sky on cool clear days are all gifts from nature, unique works of art. I take great joy in observing the bounty that is there for me to observe on my walks. I see turtles sunning themselves along the banks of the drainage ditch like armed sentinels. I laugh at the cats that skitter across my path taunting me with their agility and energy as I lope along.

A bird’s feather, a heart shaped rock, a golden leaf, a wildflower are all treasures that delight me. A baby’s foot keeping time to music or the friendly smile of a stranger bring glee instantly to my heart. The earnest drawing and sentiments of a young child are worthy of placement in the gallery of my soul. The warmth of a quilt on a cold night or an icy glass of tea on a summer’s day satisfy my wants and needs in ways that great wealth might never bring. A hug from someone that I love is the simplest but most incredible of pleasures.

It takes so very little for the ordinary to become extraordinarily beautiful. All we need do is pause from the hurry and scurry just long enough the hear the breaths that we take and the beats of our hearts. Savoring the quiet and using our senses to be totally in the moment reveals how much exquisiteness is all around us. Beauty is available for our enjoyment whenever we wish. When we take the time to notice we suddenly realize the glory of our universe with its patterns and colors and magnificence. We revel in our own humanity and realize that every shadow and crevice and nuance of our individuality is pleasing. We become one with the world and its people once we are able to still the negative voices in our heads.

It is not that difficult to meditate and reflect in such a way that we feel peace and are able to see the splendor in all things. It only takes a bit of practice and once we learn the tricks it brings us infinite contentment and optimism. It requires watching and listening and accepting, not talking, worrying, arguing or over thinking. It brings heavenly contentment to our bodies and our minds and we begin to see that there truly is beauty everywhere.

Off Season Adventures

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Rocky-Mountain-National-Park-16-HD-Image.jpgMost of my life has been directed by the school year calendar. Whether as a student, a parent or an educator I measured my days in six or nine week cycles filled with reading, study and compositions. It was only in the warm months of June, July and August that I had enough free time to experience the wonders of nature beyond the confines of places near my home. I saw the world from the perspective of only a quarter slice of time. I had little idea that so much was happening in the places that I so loved while I was ensconced in classrooms and libraries. Because I did not have the benefit of taking a vacation at a time of my own choosing I never truly experienced the changing of the seasons or the differences in color and light from one month to the next. Mine was always a holiday shared with vast crowds. It was not until I finally retired from my labors that I began to see the world around me in new and quite enchanting ways.

Travel is quieter and less hectic when schools are in session. Campgrounds and hotels generally have many vacancies from which to choose. The roads are less congested and the drives are leisurely. There is no ticking clock announcing a need to hurry. There is a glorious feeling of aimlessness that allows for random explorations that lead to exciting discoveries. For the first time in my life I am at liberty to take advantage of my freedom from an academic calendar and head in any direction that I choose on any day that I wish. I experience an exhilarating freedom every time that my husband and I hitch up our trailer and head onto the open road.

I have seen the rich hues of red, orange, yellow and gold that paint the fall landscape. I have felt the crackling of the fallen leaves beneath my feet and the sting of a cool afternoon on my nose. I have stood all alone in a forest while the wind blew across my cheeks and tousled my hair. I have listened to the silence all around me. I have enjoyed a steaming hot bowl of chili at the top of a mountain in a restaurant preparing to close for the coming winter. I’ve stopped at a Buccee’s when I was able to park right in front of the door and walk straight through without bumping into hordes of people. These were wondrous moments for me because heretofore I had never been able to enjoy such experiences. I would have been busy imparting the knowledge and skills of mathematics to the latest members of my class.

I have learned that the ocean is perhaps at its loveliest in the winter. Its aspect changes from hour to hour. It may be draped in early morning fog and then glistening in afternoon sunshine. The beaches are pristinely empty and it takes little imagination to feel the sense of wonder that may have been the reaction of the first explorers who landed in such glorious places. There is a majesty in hearing only the sound of the waves and the flapping of the wings of the birds who have reclaimed the area for the season. I so love staring into the horizon and feeling as though I am looking into forever. I think of all of the people who have stood in the same spot from which I am viewing the splendor of the sea and wonder what dreams and stories unfolded from my vantage point. I find buried treasure in the form of sand dollars and shells of many shapes and colors. I eat the lunch that I have brought in silence, starring out as far as my eye can see and feeling that surely I have found a tiny slice of heaven.

I have passes to the Texas state parks and all of the national parks as well. I love to explore the trails and pathways that invariably lead to the most delightful destinations. I feel my energy and health improving with each step. It is a glorious way to exercise. I have no need of machines when the great outdoors is beckoning me. Everything that I need to shed anxieties and pounds is right in front of me. I forget about the stresses and concerns that so often plague me when I am communing with the forests and the creatures that skitter around me. I feel at home enjoying the bounty that no man is capable of reproducing. For all of our genius we cannot build a mountain or an ocean but we can enjoy and honor the wondrous bounty that nature still provides us and there is no better time than when our footprints do not have to compete with big crowds.

I never sleep as well as when my trailer is parked in a secluded area surrounded by trees or the vistas of a lake. I am caressed by the quiet and warmed by the heavy blanket that I always carry for cold nights. A simple cup of tea tastes like the nectar of the gods on such nights. The starry sky puts my own place in the universe into perspective. I understand that I am but a tiny speck in the grand scheme of things and yet I am unique and important. I feel content as I become a shadow in a darkness that is not possible in the lights of the city. I feel relaxed and I find the comfort of slumber so easily.

The food that I eat on such journeys always seems to be so good. A bite of baked chicken or a crisp apple lingers on the tastebuds of my tongue. I have no need to hurry my dining. I sit at the table and slowly partake of my simple feast while enjoying the antics of a rabbit or laughing at the cardinals that zip past my window. Sometimes a family of deer strut through my campsites and on occasion I see something truly exotic like a moose or a turkey or a roadrunner. It is like having dinner and a movie, more special than the most expensive night out and often I am among an elite group lucky enough to be present when few others are there.

I feel blessed to be able to enjoy my little adventures and to discover the world as it is during the school year. It is truly grand to visit places in the off season when the tourists are mostly gone. Sometimes my husband and I may be the only people in sight. In those moments I feel as though I am royalty enjoying a private beach or a castle in a forest of my own. Who knew how many simple pleasures were just waiting for me to find them? Traveling at odd times of the year is truly one of those little known secrets. It is the best.

Where Are The Heroes?

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

john-glenn-6.jpgIt was 1962, and I was in the final semester of eighth grade. When we walked into Mrs. Colby’s science class she had a television perched on top of a tall cart. It’s black and white picture was tuned to one of the three major broadcasting stations. She quickly explained that we were going to have the privilege of seeing history unfold. We were to watch the first man who would orbit the earth, John Glenn. I felt breathlessly excited. My city of Houston was the site of NASA’s Manned Spacecraft Center, a place where the seven original astronauts lived and trained. I knew that I was witnessing something incredible that I would never forget.

John Glenn was encapsulated in a bell shaped vehicle called Liberty 7. He would circle the earth while in space. He had been told of the potential danger of such a feat. The entire world watched nervously as he orbited once, twice, three times. He was to have made seven passes but there was a fear that his capsule was heating up and that he might not make it back alive if the journey continued. He reentered the earth’s atmosphere landing in the ocean and was rescued by crew members of an awaiting ship. When he emerged from his spacecraft he seemed larger than life, a hero for the ages. He would become an iconic American figure and one of my all time favorite people.

John Glenn was a midwesterner through and through. He was born in Ohio in 1921, and proved to be an exemplary student and adventurous spirit. He attended Ohio State University, leaving when World War II broke out. He joined the Marines and became a fighter pilot whose wingman, Ted Williams, would ultimately be one of the best baseball players in the country. He later married his high school sweetheart and decided to follow a career in the military. He became one of the most daring aviators of his era and it only seemed natural to recruit him for the first astronaut corps. He competed with hundreds of applicants to become one of the elite seven who had the right stuff. After his history making flight in 1962, he was one of the most famous and highly regarded of the astronauts and his name would be forever linked with those pioneering days that so inspired me when I was still a very young girl.

John Glenn had retired from the military by 1965. He became a successful businessman and eventually a respected Senator from Ohio. At one point he was even considered as a possible running mate for Jimmy Carter. He made one final foray into space with the intent of determining what the effect of space travel might be on the elderly. He was physically fit and still flew his own plane until 2013. An amazing man even as he entered his ninth decade, he died last week at the age of ninety five.

John Glenn was a true American legend. He was courageous and loyal, dedicated and ethical. In many ways he represented an idealized version of what we hope all Americans to be. He certainly had his imperfections but he strove to overcome them again and again. He was ever faithful to his profession and his family. He showed all of us how to take important risks for the sake of of humanity. There was nothing insignificant about the way that he chose to live his life.

The early years of America’s exploration of space inspired my entire generation. We saw the beginnings of a rapidly changing way of doing things and embraced the future. We had dashing heroes like Glenn and our young President Kennedy. It seemed as though there was nothing that we could not accomplish if only we set our sights on our goals. Ours was known as the golden age of education in America. We were led by teachers like Mrs. Colby who introduced us to the exciting possibilities that lay ahead. She and other educators would open our minds and fill them with new ideas. Learning was an exciting prospect in our brave new world.

We had little idea then of the turmoil that would follow our euphoria. One of the original seven astronauts, Gus Grissom, would die inside his space capsule. John Kennedy would be assassinated. Many of my contemporaries would be sent to a winless war in Vietnam. The world would explode with anger and violence and it would seem as though we were on the verge of apocalypse. Instead of the fantastical world of our imaginations we would face bitter realities that tested our endurance. It would be memories of heroes like John Glenn that would inspire us to do the right thing and be unafraid.

The world unfolded in the most remarkable ways with much of the inventiveness that we now take for granted tracing its roots back to those early days of space explorations. The laptop computer on which I type my blogs is more powerful than the ones used to track John Glenn’s progress around the world. We have robots in our homes and phones that we carry in our purses that connect us to any place on the globe. Private companies now carry people into space and for the most part the journeys are far more safe than ever. We have lost our sense of awe for the accomplishments of our scientists, researchers, and astronauts. They have become commonplace in our eyes. There are no doubt young people who wonder why we care so much about an old astronaut who died. They simply do not understand the breathtaking nature of his feats in those early days when we made our first ventures into the unknown landscape of space.

I often wonder who will have the right stuff to lead us into the future. Who will be the teachers exciting a new generation of students by introducing them to people and ideas that will inspire them? From where will the heroes come and how will they show us the best of ourselves. What inventions will young scientists bring to us? How will the world change before our very eyes? These are questions to consider because there are still young men and women dreaming like I did back in Mrs. Colby’s class. They will be the leaders, the builders, the innovators. One day we will be celebrating them just as we did John Glenn.

John Glenn is gone but he will never be forgotten. His was a life well lived. May he rest in peace.

By the Light of the Moon

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Belarus Supermoon Lunar EclipseI love gazing at the heavens. Unfortunately I live in the fourth largest city in the United States and the proliferation of lights has made it rather difficult to see the stars in the sky. Only the moon and a few very bright orbs are able to overcome the competition from manmade illumination. When I was a child ours was a small town by most standards, surrounded by a number of farming and ranching communities which have now become heavily inhabited suburbs. I now have to drive a rather long way to reach a place where the stars at night are actually big and bright. Luckily the moon somehow manages to maintain its dominance over the night even where I live. As long as the clouds do not shroud it I am able to watch its phases cycle through a routine that is as familiar to me as the passage of the sun. I have never grown weary of looking skyward to see how the man in the moon is doing.

On Sunday evening I stepped into my backyard to watch an event that has not occurred since January of 1948, the year in which I was born. There in the sky was a bright and brilliant super moon so called because it appears to be much larger than the average full moon. That is because on November 14, at 8:59 Eastern time the moon orbited closer to the earth than it has at any point in over six decades. At that precise moment it was also as full as it ever gets.

My time zone prevented me from seeing the full effect of the super moon but I certainly got the idea. I found myself wondering if my mother or father had watched the super moon of 1948. They would not yet have known on that January evening that I would become part of their lives eleven months later. The seed that made me had not yet been planted but perhaps the idea of having a child may have crossed their minds. My mother often spoke of her natural inclination to have as many children as possible. She was in love with the idea of taking care of babies. She was only twenty one years old then and had a lifetime ahead of her. She would not have realized how difficult her journey would eventually become. She would have been filled with optimism, promise and perhaps a bit of romance. The world had ended a war not long before. She and my father were building a future that must have seemed as bright as that moon. I’d like to believe that they stood together holding hands, gazing at the night sky with great hope.

Who knew sixty eight years ago that we humans would one day walk on that very moon? How might anyone have imagined the changes and the progress that we have wrought? The era of television was not yet upon us. The idea of computers was still the domain of scientists and engineers. Telephones were tethered to outlets on the wall. Cars were devoid of seat belts and air bags. College degrees were the exception rather than the rule. Women still mostly stayed at home tending the children and the house. On warm summer days homes were cooled by fans that stirred breezes from open windows.

I would experience the sixty eight years of rapid change. I knew about the before 1948 only from books. I lived all of the time after from day to day as I grew from an infant to a teenager to a young adult to my middle ages to a senior. The progression has not always been smooth. There were times when the world appeared to be on the verge of a seismic shift, particularly when I was in my high school and college years. Most of my childhood was spent in a Cold War with the Soviet Union. I observed my elders worrying that there might one day be a nuclear holocaust. I watched the end of segregation unfold and spied on heated conversations between the adults who were part of my life. I boldly formed my own opinions and almost dared anyone to contradict my beliefs. I became my own person just as children have been doing since the beginning of time and will continue to do long after I am gone.

The day came when I was a young twenty one year old holding the hand of the man that I loved. I have been more fortunate than my mother. I have had the joy of growing old with him. He has been by my side through every phase of my adult life. We have shared the joys and the disappointments of living. We raised our children and eventually greeted our grandchildren. We have said goodbye to family members and friends who have died. We have grown in wisdom and understand the importance of counting our blessings and cherishing the moments that we have because we know that life is uncertain. The moon will circle our globe and we will move around the sun with regularity but all else might change in the blink of an eye. There is no time for taking our joys for granted.

The moon is beautiful whether it is the smallest of crescents or full. We associate it with humankind’s emotions. It is the stuff of legends and lore. It may engender romance or lunacy. On nights when it is at its peak it signals time for tiny creatures to engage in rituals tied to survival. Some believe that more babies are born during the full moon. Others insist that crimes and wars are more likely to occur on moonlit nights. Complaints of insomnia seem to increase when the moon is full. There are beliefs that more natural disasters occur under a full moon. Stories of old tell us of people who walked the night as werewolves or vampires. We somehow have a sense that the moon affects people much as it does the ocean tides.

It will be 2034 when the next super moon makes an appearance. By that time I will be eighty six years old if I manage to make it that far. I will know how things turned out with President Trump. I will have enjoyed watching my grandchildren enter their adult years and may have a great grandchild or two. Undoubtedly the world will have changed even more. The young men and women of the millennial generation will be running things. There will be new wonders invented that I have not yet imagined. Perhaps we will have found ways to keep our planet healthy. Hopefully I will not have to recall horrors or wars that have rocked our sensibilities but history cautions me to be ready for the unthinkable. Just as with the sun and the moon I will join my fellow travelers in the daily routines and rituals that move us slowly but surely into the future. I have enough faith in all of us that I truly believe that things will ultimately be just fine. It will be fun to watch history unfold even as I live it under the light of the moon.