So one morning almost three months ago, Rebecca and I are standing on Cocoa Beach. It’s her first time ever visiting an ocean, and I’ve arranged it that the first time she sees the Atlantic, she’s watching the sun rise over the horizon. It is, all in all, a neat experience.
Flash-forward to two weeks ago. I’m on a business trip to NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory. It’s my fourth trip to California in less than a year, and so I decide that this time I’m going to finally get around to doing something I’ve put off on previous trips — I’m going to watch the sun set on the Pacific. And so I do.
I’m currently helping one of the Space Launch System executives work on an upcoming TEDx talk, using the transcontinental railroad as analogy for the future of human space exploration, playing with themes like public-private partnerships and the fact that, historically, there are almost no new transportation capabilities that do not improve everyday life.
I thought about that as I was standing on the beach in Los Angeles. I, a fairly normal person, had watched the sunrise over one ocean and set over the other two months apart. Just 150 years ago, before the completion of the transcontinental railroad, that was impossible in the United States. Today, if you really wanted to, you could see them both in the same day. On the International Space Station, you see sixteen sunrises and sunsets a day.
We live in a time of miracles and wonders. It’s good to be reminded to wonder at it.