I envisioned Deep Space Communication as a journey, perhaps as the records of a journey which washed up on a distant shore.  Like all good log books this one would start by telling you about the person.

I have always been interested in space.  Though we all travel through that dark sea on this bright blue-green planet, it seems so distant.  Without access to some celestial bathysphere to drop into the depths, I can only record the views of its pin-pricked surface and the life of the crew on this tumbling rock.

Everyday I learn a little more, and hope one day that we will be able to communicate with others in our greater cosmic community.  I have cultivated a openness to mystery and the unknown.  This is good, because there is certainly more unknown than known to appreciate in this universe.  This is counter to the belief that we have all the knowledge, and that we should automatically define and bind all things.  It seems that this view is the dominant one among the crew where I live.

When I was young, I would walk out of my house into the night.  It was quieter and calmer in the evening.  When I looked up I could see the stars, and the Milky Way stretching across the sky.  When the Moon was full, the world was illuminated in a crystal light.  When the Moon was absent, the stars shown more brightly and the world was quiet.  Today, we seem to care only about our own light.  We get it when and where we want it.  Our stars are in our hands, but these are only the stars we made -- not the real ones.

I hope that one day we will be able to re-connect with space, and our neighbors.  Until then, I am keeping this log.