To feel a love that many have felt, to hear a song in one’s head that only one can hear…
Rainbows and daffodils
Sunshine and whippoorwills
Spring fever fills the air, lifting our spirits, as bulbs in the ground turn into flowers, trees blooms, robins hophophop across the yard…
To know the essence of one’s self as a social being.
Memories from centuries ago in one’s previous life on Earth.
To learn to live on the vaguest snippet of a thought of a friend long gone, mirror neurons triggering on sympathy with one’s former self.
Survival traits one practiced in the early days of setting up camp on extraterrestrial soil.
Like the explorers of old such as Ranulph Fiennes who trekked solo across frozen, icy landscapes of Earth’s polar regions.
Occasionally, one disconnected from the ISSANet to recall love anew, to recharge memories and rebreathe life into them.
Looking across the Martian landscape and seeing fields of purple and yellow flowers.
A mirage is a good thing.