When I walk my dog late at night, I always look at the sky. I’ve seen several mysterious lights. Some of them suddenly zoom across the sky, others disappear. What are those strange flying objects? Okay, a disclaimer—I do live close to Whiteman Air Force Base, and they do have some planes that look like they belong in a sci-fi movie.
According to an article I read in the newspaper recently, NASA is on a planet hunting mission. They have determined that ten new planets exist that have the potential to support life. They are in a galaxy far, far away, but the possibility exists that beings may be trying to contact us.
How many people believe our planet has been visited by “men in black” is somewhere between 25% and 45%, depending on the source. So, if you’ve seen something inexplicable, you are not alone.
Other than visitors from other worlds, we may sometimes feel alone. It seems we can live “down the road” from a close relative and seldom see them. We live in a world where many of us do not know our neighbors. We tend to go about our business and mind our own business.
When I was growing up, it would have seemed sci-fi to believe that someday the entire world would be a few keystrokes away. Who could have foreseen twenty-four hour TV, or so many channels that we never watch them all?
Still, in the world of connectivity, some of us feel alone. I believe many Alzheimer’s caregivers feel the loneliest of all. In fact, caregivers may feel like their world has turned upside down, and they have landed in a strange and foreign land.
We each have our own road to travel; our own frontiers to conquer. We never know how strong we can be until we face an unconquerable challenge. For me, that challenge was Jim’s dementia. For others it may be cancer, or heart disease, or the sudden death of a loved one. We never know what the next day, or for that matter, the next hour, will bring.
Earth is our home for a certain time. We have only a finite number of years to gaze at the stars, fall in love, have children, and visit with our loved ones who may live down the road or across country. We have things to do—so many things to do—and a short time to do them.
When I walk the dog and look at the heavens, sometimes I feel a chill, or an unexplainable ache. I see many things at night, and sometimes during the day.
One day earlier this week while the dog and I were meandering across the backyard, I looked up at a blue sky with a few scattered fluffy clouds. I saw a strange, rectangular white object passing rapidly by.
“Do you see that?” I yelled at Harold. Of course, he didn’t hear me. Just as I marveled at that object, I saw another. In a few minutes, they were gone.
I told Harold what I’d seen, and he said, “Probably a weather balloon.” Just like my dad, he thinks every strange flying object is a weather balloon.
“What I saw was flat. Didn’t look like any kind of balloon.”
Oh, well, there’s no way of really knowing what the strange flying objects were. They could have been something from Whiteman AFB, a runaway pair of drones, sheets off a line that decided to go for a thrill ride, or maybe a deflated weather balloon.
Since the objects were unknown, I like to think they might have been a couple of angels making their way toward the heavens. Maybe, I was the only one looking up during that brief moment of visibility. At least there were two of them, so neither was traveling alone.
Copyright © June 2017 by L.S. Fisherhttp://earlyonset.blogspot.com