The photo of the Earth taken by Major William A Anders from the Apollo 8 capsule slingshoting around the Moon is called “Earthrise”
It changed the way we look at the world. Captured in the lens are the lives, loves, dreams, hopes and worries of all but 3 of the entire human race, on that day, Christmas Eve 1968.
“To see the Earth as it truly is, small and blue and beautiful in that eternal silence where it floats, is to see ourselves as riders on the Earth together, brothers on that bright loveliness in the eternal cold – brothers who know now they are truly brothers.” ….Archibald MacLeish
Seen in this way, a delicate ark of humanity, an oasis of life in the vastness of space really makes you think.
What is to be gained by man waging war on man? We should be working shoulder to shoulder to reach out to the stars.
How can we exist on such a vulnerable sphere and allow it to be polluted, abused, over-expolited and poisoned by our own activities?
Why do short term greed, selfishness, personal ambition and crass materialism drive a society which should be planning for the long term survival of the human race?
If you need a resolution for 2019: work in what small way you can to reduce the impacts of mankind on Planet Earth. Badger your politicians. Reject plastics and chemicals. Eat less meat. Opt for energy from renewable sources. Invest your pension in ethical funds.
You, Andrew Marvell; by Archibald MacLeish
And here face down beneath the sun
and here upon earth’s noonward height
to feel the always coming on
the always rising of the night:
To feel creep up the curving east
the earthy chill of dusk and slow
upon those under lands the vast
and ever climbing shadow grow
and strange at Ecbatan the trees
take leaf by leaf the evening strange
the flooding dark about their knees
the mountains over Persia change
and now at Kermanshah the gate
dark empty and the withered grass
and through the twilight now the late
few travelers in the westward pass
and Baghdad darken and the bridge
across the silent river gone
and through Arabia the edge
of evening widen and steal on
and deepen on Palmyra’s street
the wheel rut in the ruined stone
and Lebanon fade out and Crete
high through the clouds and overblown
and over Sicily the air
still flashing with the landward gulls
and loom and slowly disappear
the sails above the shadowy hulls
and Spain go under and the shore
of Africa the gilded sand
and evening vanish and no more
the low pale light across that land
nor now the long light on the sea:
And here face downward in the sun
to feel how swift how secretly
the shadow of the night comes on …