Did I every tell you I always wanted to be a spaceman? No, not an astronaut – a spaceman, like Flash Gordon or any of those other lucky fellows I used to read about when I was a kid.
I found this illustration in an 1956 book about space travel – well, at least, space travel as they used to imagine it would be like – and this little bit of prose came to mind…
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Child
He reads his books of space adventures and distant futures, of fantasies and new frontiers, dreaming of a life of marvelous excitement among the stars. Sometimes, as the sun retires for the evening leaving only a faint pink glow along the horizon, he imagines himself journeying to those distant sparkling points of promise.
In the dusky silence of day’s end, their crystal voices gently brush his heart with a barely-felt quiver of anticipation and mystery. Listening closely, he hears their cold, siren call and aches to follow them to far-flung shores on ancient worlds of discovery and wonder.
His present world of climbing trees, sunny skies and puppy dogs fades to unreality as new worlds, amazing landscapes, and strange peoples fill his mind’s eye. To his confident and innocent view the future is bright and optimistic, filled with wondrous possibilities – and it is good.
Youth
He still looks up at the stars on occasion, remembering those somewhat far-fetched summer dreams of days gone past. He smiles on the inside, though nothing appears where passerbys might see and wonder. These days his thoughts are filled with far more practical matters: choosing a good college, keeping those pesky test grades up, and making career choices. Actual, down-to-earth career choices, he amends to himself, wondering how anyone could possibly know what career they really are best at without having experienced anything first.
The accumulated knowledge of space and time has made great strides over the year. Scientific reality laid to rest the fanciful adventures he knew as a child were just around the corner. Rocket ships filled with adventurous folks just weren’t that practical, it seemed; their lines were dictated far more by coldly logical engineering principles than imagination and dreams. Ah, well.
His present world of books and friendships, cars and sweethearts fades to unreality as he imagines one career path after another, attempting to divine the best and brightest path for himself. So many possibilities; so many exciting things to choose from! To his confident and youthful view the future is bright and optimistic, filled with wondrous possibilities – and it is good.
Man
Deep within his prime, he no longer looks up at the stars with any sense of wonder, his path too filled with family, work and the establishment of what security can be wrung out of his career. Though it’s not exactly the one he started with, still, it suits him and he’s happy. His wife, his children, his faith; they all occupy a central part of who he is now, filling him with a sense of joy and wonder – and especially blessing.
It fills his need to conquer, providing many, if occasionally mundane, goals worthy of his reach. The only horizons sees these days are those he can reach by car or plane; nothing beyond that calls to him any more. Those distant dreams of childhood, of going to strange places and contacting other civilizations – well, that was a dream of childhood, the breath of yesteryear.
Satisfaction and purpose fills his life and he knows the track he follows. After all, the horizon is not that far. To his confident and mature view the future is bright and optimistic, filled with wondrous possibilities – and it is good.
Elder
Sitting on the porch as evening falls with awesome silence, he notices the stars once more. Their crystal song is silent now, but maybe… if he listened closely, there is something. Sepia memories of warm summer days and glorious star-filled nights play across the shores of his mind’s eye, bringing a smile upon wrinkled lips. He looks back with fondness at the life he’s lived, content, but at the same time – not. So much accomplished, yet so much missed!
For the first time in a long, long time, those old adventures sprang forth from the dusty recesses he’d laid them. Sacrificed to the relentless pursuit of reality, they’d lain forgotton, waiting, yet still calling with their tiny voices. No anger or remorse, but a hint of sadness just the same.
His great-grandchildren play on the lawn, games of imagination and make-believe, daring each other to push beyond the limits set by reality and parents. He quiestly remembers his own fanciful dreams of flying beyond the star above to see what could be seen, pushing those limits back beyond the edges of the universe. He knows it’s too late for him… but for them, distant horizones of his youth fled away beyond his sight. In his view, once again the future is bright and optimistic, filled with wondrous possibilities – and it is good.
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Howdy, y’all, and a big ol’ tip o’ the Monday hat to ya!
Yeehaw, y’all; a tip o’ the ol’ Stetson to ya!
Last week I issued an invitation for y’all to 
Middle Zone Musings is a comfortable place to stop, have a cup of coffee, swap a few stories and share practical ideas for the real world. I don't ask for much, just a bit of your brain every now and then. Have a seat, take a load off, and relax...
