Return of the Wren

Photo: Clive Simpson

WE'VE arrived at the equinox when the hours of light and dark are the same and it looks like spring might finally be on the way.

Over the short, cold days of winter we’d been diligently feeding our garden visitors - probably a dozen different types of bird each day - all with their own characteristics.

One feathered friend that didn’t visit the feeders was a charming little wren who was content with hoping around the hanging basket and tubs near our window, feeding no doubt on the insects living there.

The wren is one of Britain's most delicate birds, though size does not diminish its claim to be one of the most vocal. Wrens love thickets, hedges, undergrowth and shrubberies. Anything thick, dense and small.

But then came along the ‘beast from the east’ in early March, as the winter blast was labelled in the media and by gleeful weather forecasters.

It as like the door of the Arctic had been left ajar, allowing the cold air to pour out and sweep from the east across ill-prepared little Britain.

The regular birds were aligned on the garden fence and in the bare trees each morning as we pulled back the curtains on the snowy garden.

They were waiting in the bitter cold for their supply of seeds and bread crumbs, vitally important to keep them alive in such conditions.

In all this harsh winter weather our wren was nowhere to be seen, its supply of inspects rudely curtailed by the deep snow and sub-zero temperatures.

How could such a delicate bird - the smallest and lightest of British birds - survive these conditions?

Indeed, for two weeks after the snows and cold had abated we saw no sign of our tiny friend, which we judged must have perished in the hard conditions.
               
But then, three weeks later and the day of the vernal equinox, there was a sudden, brief flicker of movement on the patio beneath the door. An old wizened leaf caught in the breeze perhaps?

No, our wren was miraculously back, busily investigating its local territory and feasting on insects among the brightly coloured pansy flowers, themselves revived by the warming spring sunshine.

Here comes the sun

Photo: Clive Simpson

THE vibrant colour and noise of summer are absent on this visceral, unkind day at the English seaside.

It started with unrequited optimism, a slip of sunshine at dawn which quickly retreated into murky fog and cold, a typically dour and miserly January day enveloped in clinging mist.

There is no wind, just chill, and the grey sea is eerily serene and flat for the time of year, merging without definition into the distant grey shoreline.

We are standing on a narrow, exposed north-facing balcony of the the Rocket House Cafe, an oddly named building whose shape and design is more maritime than space launch pad.

A rusty tractor hauls two small fishing boats off the beach just below us onto a steep jetty. They are safe now, well above the concrete sea wall which snakes away in gritty grey tones behind them.

It carries the eye towards Cromer’s famous seaside pier with its quaint, rusty-roofed theatre in front of a modern, wood constructed lifeboat house which seems to hang on the very edge of the North Sea.

Warmth and light from inside the busy cafe beckon. The chatter is comforting and masks the bleakness of a seaside town in winter, as we hold closely our memories of summer and look forward to sunny days.

Rocket House Cafe

Photo: Clive Simpson

Did we fly to the Moon too soon?

UNBELIEVABLY it has been almost a half century since Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin bounced across the lunar landscape for the first time.

Certainly, in terms of human exploration, project Apollo was perceived as a stepping stone to greater things rather than marking a pinnacle of human achievement.       

But the sudden cancellation of the final three missions - despite the fact that the hardware for each had already been built - ably illustrates the financial and political difficulties of sustaining space exploration. Apollo 20 was shelved in January 1970. Eight months later, Apollo 18 and Apollo 19 were also cancelled, making Apollo 17, all the way back in December 1972, the final and most recent human mission to the Moon.

Five decades on and the United States, Europe, Russia, China, Japan and India, along with a handful of private entrepreneurs and firms, all harbour new lunar exploration ambitions.

In October 2017, US Vice-President Mike Pence announced a significant re-direction for NASA - a new road map to create a sustained human presence on the M oon’s surface. It’s a big change for the agency which, for the past decade, has been heading, somewhat tentatively, for a future of deep space exploration and taking humans to Mars.

But words are not enough and to become reality ambitious programmes require ambitious sums of money, along with sustained long-term political commitment.           

Fortunately, NASA’s rapidly maturing new hardware for deep space missions can also be easily re-purposed to take us back to the Moon.

Its giant rocket - known prosaically as the ‘Space Launch System’ (SLS) - and a crew capsule called Orion designed to carry people into deep space, can easily become the mainstay of future lunar missions.               

A so-called cislunar architecture and an associated economy that supports or is part of a return to the Moon offers many opportunities.

Fresh political direction and some of the essential hardware may almost be in place but establishing a sustained presence on the Moon is also going to require the creation of a lunar lander, habitats, life support systems and more.

Long-term funding (at one point, NASA estimated a return to the Moon would cost upwards of US $100 billion) and time (particularly in a political context) are rare commodities in our modern world.

To succeed, space exploration projects still need to be challenging and inspirational, perhaps with a nod towards commercialism.

They must also cover the bases of meaningful international partnerships and private sector
participation, and include the less glamorous aspects of building components, delivering cargo and providing ‘multi-layered’ services.   

Today, the nature of leadership in space is very different to the politically driven aspirations of the 1960s and 1970s. Back then it was more about doing things that no other country could do - and being there first.

Ten years after Apollo 11, the science writer and science fiction author Arthur C Clarke suggested that space travel might be “a technological mutation that should not really have arrived until the 21st century”.

If mankind was not really ready to go to the Moon in the late 1960s and the early 1970s then perhaps now is exactly the right time.


This article was first written by Clive Simpson as the Editorial in the Winter2017/18 edition of ROOM - The Space Journal for which Clive Simpson is also the Managing Editor. For online subscriptions please go to: www.room.eu.com.

Choosing our destiny

 James Vaughan

SIXTY years ago this month the Soviet Union’s Sputnik 1 became the first artificial satellite to orbit Earth and the world woke up to a new age - the Space Age.

This first satellite was a marker in human history and heralded a massive period of growth in science and technological development, much of it spurred by the subsequent six decades of space exploration.

In its broadest sense the whole sphere of space exploration, its inherent international cooperation and the expanding worldwide business of space has had a massively positive impact on the world.

Despite this, one wonders whether planet Earth has perhaps become a rather gloomy place of late - a world where vested interests often trump the wider common good, a world where optimism might be in short supply?

Like so many inventions and revolutions that have come of age and spawned a new breed of adventurers and entrepreneurs, there are also significant pitfalls and dangers on the road into deeper space.

In his magnum opus De Re Metallica (Of Metal Matters) on natural resources, the 16th century scientist and philosopher Georgius Agricola wrote, ‘Good men employ the elements for good and to them they are useful. The wicked use them badly and to them they are harmful.’

The approach of Agricola, widely regarded as the originator of the experimental approach to science, is perhaps more sensible than either the blind faith of the pure optimist or the destructive cynicism of the pessimist.
 

De Re Metallica (Of Metal Matters)

His renaissance philosophy speaks to many of the challenges society still faces today because many of our most potent technologies - space included - are finely balanced between creation and destruction, between benefit and exploitation.

Whereas sometimes a mechanism might be needed to tip the balance towards good, Agricola’s philosophy also reminds us of the need for wise leadership whether in politics, business, science or technology.

In Earth orbit, for example, we continue to exploit the opportunities provided by satellites for communications, navigation, TV broadcasting, observation and research, whilst at the same time creating a serious debris problem.

Space exploration is inextricably linked to the great reach of human progress and, if our further expansion beyond Earth is not to stall, the considered words of a scientist such as Agricola might just provide guidance enough for our future custody of the space realm.

We might also be wise to heed the solemn and inherent warning in a Buddhist proverb which tells us that,‘to every man is given the key to the gates of heaven, the same key also opens the gates of hell.’

Sputnik, the first artificial satellite, was launched on 4 October 1957.

In the days following the first Sputnik our vision of the future was perhaps more constrained. Today we find ourselves on the threshold of an unimagined space tourism era, eagerly anticipating the first crewed flights to Mars and perhaps even human colonies on the red planet.

At the same time zealous entrepreneurs, and even whole countries, are eyeing the untold mineral wealth of asteroids and the opportunity of a new mining ‘gold rush’ for which the old ways will not suffice.

Neatly juxtaposed with the Sputnik anniversary is the first birthday of Asgardia, the world’s first ‘space nation’ which is also about to mark its presence in orbit with the launch of its
inaugural satellite.

In all of these ventures judicious leadership and governance are vitally important. By the same token, we are all part of the whole and hold individual keys to our own destinies. And, as we recall the anniversary of the first Earth orbiting satellite, it means we can all be part of the future in whichever way we choose.

This article was first published as the Editorial to the Autumn 2017 edition of ROOM - The Space Journal for which Clive Simpson is the Managing Editor.