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. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
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