Michael Robert Dyet's Blog, page 48

Metaphors of Life Journal: My Message in a Bottle for Future Generations

Hmmm, what memorial gifts would you give to future generations if you had the ability?

First a disclaimer: I am not a person who is inclined to crystal ball gazing. Frankly, dealing with the challenges that life throws at me on a daily basis keeps me fully occupied. Furthermore, the topsy-turvy, what’s-coming-next times we live in make it damn hard to predict what might be waiting on the distant horizon.

But the notion of creating a time capsule came up recently in a strategic planning session where I work. It got me to thinking: What would I want future generations – let us say a century from now – to know about the time in which I live? What gifts would I bestow upon them?

Time Capsule Gift #1: One copy each of: A Tale of Two Cities, Tess of the D’Urbervilles, Heart of Darkness, Dr Zhivago, Sons and Lovers, The Grapes of Wrath – my entirely subjective picks for the greatest novels of all time.

First of all, I want future generations to know that there was once such a thing as a printed book. But more importantly, my desire is that future generations have the chance to experience great literature. I fear that 100 years from now, in a world entirely driven by technology, no one will have the patience or the inherited legacy needed to write such works.

Time Capsule Gift #2: A penny. No, I’m not being ironic. My desire is that future generations will know that there was once a time when one cent could buy something. In addition, I expect that future generations will pay for everything with virtual currency. I would like them to have the sense of what it means to only be able to spend what you have in your pocket.

Time Capsule Gift #3: Peterson’s Field Guide to the Birds of Eastern and Central North America and the Kaufman Field Guide to the Butterflies of North America. Why would I part with cherished copies of these guides?

I fear that as many as half of the species present today will have become extinct as a direct result of man’s neglect of the planet. My desire is that future generations know what a wealth of wildlife the earth once supported.

Time Capsule Gift #4: An aerial photograph of the Great Lakes: Lake Ontario, Lake Erie, Lake Huron, Lake Michigan, Lake Superior. Why? At the rate we are consuming fresh water, there may be no natural sources of it a century from now.

Mankind will quite possibly have developed the technology to synthesize water in sufficient quantities for human needs. But it would be a shame if the majesty of the chain of noble lakes, which define this area of the country, was lost beyond remembrance.

My time capsule would be a metaphorical message in a bottle tossed into the sea of unending time. A few precious fossils, remnants of what was lost in the relentless march of progress, preserved for future generations to rediscover and ponder.

For each of us is in part the history of our forefathers. We cannot understand who we are without understanding from whence we came.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2. Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

My Message in a Bottle for Future Generations

Hmm, what memorial gifts would you give to future generations if you had the ability?

First a disclaimer: I am not a person who is inclined to crystal ball gazing. Frankly, dealing with the challenges that life throws at me on a daily basis keeps me fully occupied. Furthermore, the topsy-turvy, what’s-coming-next times we live in make it damn hard to predict what might be waiting on the distant horizon.

But the notion of creating a time capsule came up recently in a strategic planning session where I work. It got me to thinking: What would I want future generations – let us say a century from now – to know about the time in which I live? What gifts would I bestow upon them?

Time Capsule Gift #1: One copy each of: A Tale of Two Cities, Tess of the D’Urbervilles, Heart of Darkness, Dr Zhivago, Sons and Lovers, The Grapes of Wrath – my entirely subjective picks for the greatest novels of all time.

First of all, I want future generations to know that there was once such a thing as a printed book. But more importantly, my desire is that future generations have the chance to experience great literature. I fear that 100 years from now, in a world entirely driven by technology, no one will have the patience or the inherited legacy needed to write such works.

Time Capsule Gift #2: A penny. No, I’m not being ironic. My desire is that future generations will know that there was once a time when one cent could buy something. In addition, I expect that future generations will pay for everything with virtual currency. I would like them to have the sense of what it means to only be able to spend what you have in your pocket.

Time Capsule Gift #3: Peterson’s Field Guide to the Birds of Eastern and Central North America and the Kaufman Field Guide to the Butterflies of North America. Why would I part with cherished copies of these guides?

I fear that as many as half of the species present today will have become extinct as a direct result of man’s neglect of the planet. My desire is that future generations know what a wealth of wildlife the earth once supported.

Time Capsule Gift #4: An aerial photograph of the Great Lakes: Lake Ontario, Lake Erie, Lake Huron, Lake Michigan, Lake Superior. Why? At the rate we are consuming fresh water, there may be no natural sources of it a century from now.

Mankind will quite possibly have developed the technology to synthesize water in sufficient quantities for human needs. But it would be a shame if the majesty of the chain of noble lakes, which define this area of the country, was lost beyond remembrance.

My time capsule would be a metaphorical message in a bottle tossed into the sea of unending time. A few precious fossils, remnants of what was lost in the relentless march of progress, preserved for future generations to rediscover and ponder.

For each of us is in part the history of our forefathers. We cannot understand who we are without understanding from whence we came.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

 

Metaphors of Life Journal: When I Grow Old and Wear the Bottom of My Trousers Rolled - Small Gemstones

I grow old… I grow old…
I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled
~ T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Hmmm, is the secret to growing old gracefully opting out of the relentless race against time?

I wrote the first post in this series seven years ago. In the time that has elapsed since then, my mindset has shifted. When I Grow Old is evolving to As I Grow Old. In less than a year, I will reach the big 60 – a landmark age that will be hard to disregard.

As much as growing old is a condition I do not welcome, it does come with wisdom. I’m realizing that chasing time is a fool’s errand. Time is only a human conception. We created devices to measure our days in a never ending circle of tick-tocks. Now we run a race to beat the hands around the dial. It seems to me that the only thing we are measuring is our own obsession.

It has taken me an inordinate amount of time (pardon the irony) to understand that trying to squeeze in as much living as possible into each day, in the race against time, offers much less return on investment than finding the small gemstones of joy each day has to offer.

It is a counter-cultural way of thinking and puts me at odds with much of what is happening around me. But going against the flow is a rhythm I once had an aptitude for and which I need, for the sake of my sanity, to rediscover and reclaim.

And so, trying to beat my single day record, for number of bird species sighted, is giving way to lingering to admire the efflorescent blue splash of an Indigo Bunting in the foliage ahead.

And so, covering as much territory as possible to maximize my chances of coming across a butterfly species I have not yet set eyes upon, is making less sense than tarrying to ponder how the glow of sunbeams has been replicated in a Great Spangled Fritillary.

And so, lamenting the uncooperative darner dragonfly that took flight before I could catch it in the focus of my binoculars, is beginning to seem foolish when a common but still exquisite Callico Pennant is waiting patiently for me to notice it.

And so, measuring the value of my day by the quantity of living squeezed into it is dissolving and resolving into appreciating the quality of that living in whatever measure it comes.

When I grow old and wear the bottom of my trousers rolled, I know that I will move slower, grow weary sooner and have less energy to run the race with time.

But as I grow old, I hope that I will learn the patience to pause more often, see with more clarity and better appreciate what I too often take for granted. And perhaps, be inspired to weave metaphors with more simple elegance and gifted insight that I have yet achieved.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2. Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

When I Grow Old and Wear the Bottom of My Trousers Rolled: Small Gemstones

I grow old… I grow old…

I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled

~ T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Hmmm, is the secret to growing old gracefully opting out of the relentless race against time?

I wrote the first post in this series seven years ago. In the time that has elapsed since then, my mindset has shifted. When I Grow Old is evolving to As I Grow Old. In less than a year, I will reach the big 60 – a landmark age that will be hard to disregard.

As much as growing old is a condition I do not welcome, it does come with wisdom. I’m realizing that chasing time is a fool’s errand. Time is only a human conception. We created devices to measure our days in a never ending circle of tick-tocks. Now we run a race to beat the hands around the dial. It seems to me that the only thing we are measuring is our own obsession.

It has taken me an inordinate amount of time (pardon the irony) to understand that trying to squeeze in as much living as possible into each day, in the race against time, offers much less return on investment than finding the small gemstones of joy each day has to offer.

It is a counter-cultural way of thinking and puts me at odds with much of what is happening around me. But going against the flow is a rhythm I once had an aptitude for and which I need, for the sake of my sanity, to rediscover and reclaim.

And so, trying to beat my single day record, for number of bird species sighted, is giving way to lingering to admire the efflorescent blue splash of an Indigo Bunting in the foliage ahead.

And so, covering as much territory as possible to maximize my chances of coming across a butterfly species I have not yet set eyes upon, is making less sense than tarrying to ponder how the glow of sunbeams has been replicated in a Great Spangled Fritillary.

And so, lamenting the uncooperative darner dragonfly that took flight before I could catch it in the focus of my binoculars, is beginning to seem foolish when a common but still exquisite Callico Pennant is waiting patiently for me to notice it.

And so, measuring the value of my day by the quantity of living squeezed into it is dissolving and resolving into appreciating the quality of that living in whatever measure it comes.

When I grow old and wear the bottom of my trousers rolled, I know that I will move slower, grow weary sooner and have less energy to run the race with time.

But as I grow old, I hope that I will learn the patience to pause more often, see with more clarity and better appreciate what I too often take for granted. And perhaps, be inspired to weave metaphors with more simple elegance and gifted insight that I have yet achieved.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

 

Random Act of Metaphor: The Last Flight of the Sparrow

Hmmm, was the last flight of the wounded sparrow a sign meant especially for me?

The sparrow took flight as I walked down the sidewalk toward it. The best it could manage was a fluttering, laboured flight six inches off the ground into the middle of the street. It rested there perplexed at its plight and pondering what its’ options were.

I saw the car heading toward it and thought: Fly, brave, little sparrow! Another six feet to safety! But it was unaware of the danger. The car passed over it in a matter of a second or two. The defenceless sparrow was nowhere to be seen as the car continued on down the street.

It is a scene that is likely played out dozens of times a day. A broken wing is the kiss of death for a bird. Every moving object becomes a threat. But a 3,000 pound rolling hunk of metal is a cruel executioner.

You may think it is a stretch to believe that the end of this ill-fated sparrow’s life was timed so that I would witness it. But consider that I am an avid birdwatcher and the odds go up. A person with no special interest in birds might not have noticed its demise at all.

Whether it was nothing more than chance timing or a true case of kismet, witnessing the incident reminded me that life is fragile and that none of us know when the end is coming. And, particularly sobering, it underscores that the moment of death can unfold in a few seconds when all seemed well.

The last flight of the sparrow with a broken wing – a random act of metaphor to remind me not to take one moment of life for granted and to treat each today as the most important day of my life.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2. Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Random Act of Metaphor: The Last Flight of the Sparrow

Hmmm, was the last flight of the wounded sparrow a sign meant especially for me?

The sparrow took flight as I walked down the sidewalk toward it. The best it could manage was a fluttering, laboured flight six inches off the ground into the middle of the street. It rested there perplexed at its plight and pondering what its’ options were.

I saw the car heading toward it and thought: Fly, brave, little sparrow! Another six feet to safety! But it was unaware of the danger. The car passed over it in a matter of a second or two. The defenceless sparrow was nowhere to be seen as the car continued on down the street.

It is a scene that is likely played out dozens of times a day. A broken wing is the kiss of death for a bird. Every moving object becomes a threat. But a 3,000 pound rolling hunk of metal is a cruel executioner.

You may think it is a stretch to believe that the end of this ill-fated sparrow’s life was timed so that I would witness it. But consider that I am an avid birdwatcher and the odds go up. A person with no special interest in birds might not have noticed its demise at all.

Whether it was nothing more than chance timing or a true case of kismet, witnessing the incident reminded me that life is fragile and that none of us know when the end is coming. And, particularly sobering, it underscores that the moment of death can unfold in a few seconds when all seemed well.

The last flight of the sparrow with a broken wing – a random act of metaphor to remind me not to take one moment of life for granted and to treat each today as the most important day of my life.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Once in a Blue Moon: Chasing the Elusive Connecticut Warbler

Hmmm, could I please trade five dozen Butterbutts for just one Connecticut?

May is the glory month for the increasing number of us addicted to the pursuit of birdwatching. The peak of the songbird migration occurs in mid to late May including, in particular, the brightly coloured, hyperactive members of the warbler family.

Bird enthusiasts are usually delighted to spot any warbler. But there are a few that are particularly prized because they are uncommon to rare in these parts. If, for example, the call of one of these five warblers is detected, the pulse of all birdwatchers in the area begins to race.

zray-zray-zray-zee

Perhaps you are thinking: That’s not the most elegant of songs. No matter, as it signals a Cerulean Warbler. Males of this rarely seen warbler sport a two tone suit of ashy blue above and white below. Black side streaks and a black chest stripe complete their attire. You’ll get warbler neck trying to spot this sprite as it hangs out high in the woodland canopy.

weeta wee-tee-o

Start searching the undergrowth when you hear this song as that is where Hooded Warblers hang out. Trust me: You will know the male when you see it. The black cowl encircling the yellow face and forehead is unmistakable and contrasts nicely with the glowing yellow breast.

buzz-bz-bz-bz

Well worth the time to track down the source of this song in brushy clearings or undergrowth. Few warblers outshine the Golden-winged Warbler with its jaunty yellow cap, black eye patch and throat, and of course, the distinctive yellow wing bar by which it gets its name.

chip-chup-ee, chip-chup-ee, chip-chup-ee, chip

Call me immediately if you chance to hear this song as I have never laid eyes on the prized Connecticut Warbler. When this skulker in the undergrowth gives you a glimpse, it displays a gray head and glowing throat and yellow breast. Make sure you see the white eye ring to distinguish it from its lookalike relative Mourning Warbler.

churry-churry-churry-churry

Kentucky Warblers don’t find their way this far north very often and draw crowds of birdwatchers when they do. Once again, you’ll have to scan the woodland undergrowth to find the Kentucky. But it displays well with its trend-setting black sideburns, yellow designer spectacles, the flashy yellow breast and unmarked green upper body.

I would gladly trade five dozen Yellow-rumped Warblers (aka Butterbutts) for a glimpse of just one this elusive quintet – in particular, the elusive Connecticut. In metaphor terms, each is a once in a blue moon sighting and the guaranteed highlight of the season. Wish me luck!

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2. Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Once in a Blue Moon: Chasing the Elusive Connecticut Warbler

Hmmm, could I please trade five dozen Butterbutts for just one Connecticut?

May is the glory month for the increasing number of us addicted to the pursuit of birdwatching. The peak of the songbird migration occurs in mid to late May including, in particular, the brightly coloured, hyperactive members of the warbler family.

Bird enthusiasts are usually delighted to spot any warbler. But there are a few that are particularly prized because they are uncommon to rare in these parts. If, for example, the call of one of these five warblers is detected, the pulse of all birdwatchers in the area begins to race.

zray-zray-zray-zee

Perhaps you are thinking: That’s not the most elegant of songs. No matter, as it signals a Cerulean Warbler. Males of this rarely seen warbler sport a two tone suit of ashy blue above and white below. Black side streaks and a black chest stripe complete their attire. You’ll get warbler neck trying to spot this sprite as it hangs out high in the woodland canopy.

weeta wee-tee-o

Start searching the undergrowth when you hear this song as that is where Hooded Warblers hang out. Trust me: You will know the male when you see it. The black cowl encircling the yellow face and forehead is unmistakable and contrasts nicely with the glowing yellow breast.

buzz-bz-bz-bz

Well worth the time to track down the source of this song in brushy clearings or undergrowth. Few warblers outshine the Golden-winged Warbler with its jaunty yellow cap, black eye patch and throat, and of course, the distinctive yellow wing bar by which it gets its name.

chip-chup-ee, chip-chup-ee, chip-chup-ee,  chip

Call me immediately if you chance to hear this song as I have never laid eyes on the prized Connecticut Warbler. When this skulker in the undergrowth gives you a glimpse, it displays a gray head and glowing throat and yellow breast. Make sure you see the white eye ring to distinguish it from its lookalike relative Mourning Warbler.

churry-churry-churry-churry

Kentucky Warblers don’t find their way this far north very often and draw crowds of birdwatchers when they do. Once again, you’ll have to scan the woodland undergrowth to find the Kentucky. But it displays well with its trend-setting black sideburns, yellow designer spectacles, the flashy yellow breast and unmarked green upper body.

I would gladly trade five dozen Yellow-rumped Warblers (aka Butterbutts) for a glimpse of just one this elusive quintet – in particular, the elusive Connecticut. In metaphor terms, each is a once in a blue moon sighting and the guaranteed highlight of the season. Wish me luck!

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

 

Facebook: Caught in the Virtual Vapour Trail

Hmmm, is there a place for an aging baby boomer in the king of social networks?

I learned this week that Facebook is about the break the 2 billion mark in users. Do you need to see that figure in numbers to grasp it? Here you go: 2,000,000,000. What’s more, Facebook is still growing at an exponential rate – expanding its user base by 17% in the past year.

It is difficult to put that figure in perspective. But it may help to know that this figure represents somewhere between one quarter to one third of the total world population. Quite the accomplishment for a company that started a mere 13 years ago as a social network for U.S. college students.

I did a bit of research and was astonished to learn that Facebook has acquired 63 other companies in the course of its meteoric rise. The most expensive of these acquisitions:

What’s App (mobile instant messaging) in 2014 for $19 billion
Oculus VR (virtual reality technology) in 2015 for $2 billion
Instagram in 2012 for $1 billion

The fact that I have never heard of two of these companies, which sold for more money than I could lay my hands on in a million lifetimes, tells me how out of touch I am with the world of social networks and technology in general.

I was also taken aback to learn that most of these 63 acquisitions were talent acquisitions with the acquired products often shutdown. Mark Zuckerberg is on record as saying that Facebook has never once bought a company for the company. The goal is always to acquire the talented people running, or employed by, the organization.

I have delved into the Facebook phenomenon a few times in this blog reaching for metaphors to put it into perspective:

In “Facebook: 400 Million Threads in the Web of Life”, I argued that Facebook is becoming a metaphor for an entirely new “web of life”. It has the power to fundamentally alter who we are and how we interact. What frightens me is that we may not be in control, or even aware, of the change that is taking place.

In “Facebook: From Virtual Space to Outer Space”, I commented that Facebook is leading the charge into the internet-dominated world of the future. It is no longer a question of whether Facebook’s explosive growth is a good thing or a bad thing. The only question remaining is: Are you tech savvy enough to scramble on board the new age bandwagon or will you be left behind spinning in the virtual vapour trail?

I fear that I am one of those choking on the virtual vapour trail. But Mark, in case you are interested, I am available for hire. I do not have dazzling technical skills. But I am available at a bargain basement price and might be useful to you in providing the perspective of an aging baby boomer and digital immigrant. I am standing by my phone waiting for your call.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Forever Enchanted by the Golden Fire of the Cosmos

This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o –

enhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire.

William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Hmmm, is science’s exploration of the cosmos a flight of fancy or the defining quest of mankind?

It is 1.4 billion kilometres from Earth. A spacecraft needs six and a half years to find its way there. You would not particularly want to live there as it has a scorching hot interior reaching 11,700 º C, giving a whole new meaning to global warming.

If you are an astrophysicist, you already know that I am talking about the planet Saturn. It is one of five planets known since ancient times and surprisingly no one knows who first observed it. We do know that it is the sixth planet from Earth, the second largest in the solar system after Jupiter and it has a harem of 62 moons.

I do not spend much time thinking about Saturn. It does not have much relevance to my everyday life. But I am intrigued by its prominent ring system, nine continuous main rings and three discontinuous arcs, composed mostly of ice particles mixed with rocky debris and dust.

My curiosity was peaked recently when I heard that one of NASA’s space probes has been hanging out in the vicinity of Saturn for years. The unmanned spacecraft Cassini–Huygens launched on October 15, 1997 and entered orbit around Saturn on July 1, 2004 after a voyage that included flybys of Earth, Venus and Jupiter.

On December 25, 2004, Cassini separated from its orbiter. It landed on Saturn’s moon Titan on January 14, 2005 and has successfully returned data to Earth for years. This was the first landing ever accomplished in the outer Solar System, giving it a legitimate claim to fame.

Cassini has continued to study Saturn and its moons since that time. Its investigation revealed that the icy Saturn moon Enceladus may be able to support living microbes. Apparently, that dictates that planetary science textbooks will have to be rewritten.

But due to its dwindling fuel supplies, Cassini has entered the final phase of the project. Cassini will dive through the outer ring of Saturn 22 times, once every seven days, entering areas that have been untouched up until this point, getting the closest look ever at Saturn’s outer rings.

It is sad to know that Cassini will be destroyed by diving into the planet’s atmosphere, on September 15, 2017, when it will beam its last batch of images, This self-destruction is necessary to prevent the spacecraft from crashing into and damaging Saturn’s moons.

So what do we make of this epic journey? It may seem like brilliant men and women with too much time on their hands indulging their whims. But It is in fact a testament to mankind’s enduring quest for knowledge and to unlock the mysteries of the cosmos.

Shakespeare’s poetic turn of phrase best captures the majesty. When other wonders lose their gleam, the golden fire will still call out to us.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.