Saturn

There is a huge difference between the vastness of the ocean and the vastness of space. I believe that that difference lies in the comprehensive abilities of the human mind and the potential for life to exist within a certain environment. The ocean is measurable in the way that it is contained by the gravity holding all things to our planet Earth. We have a general idea of its size because we have a general idea of the size of Earth, regardless of exact numeral measurements on the mass of said ocean. We also know that the ocean is full of life. We know because we have observed the small schools of fish and plant life that dwell along the shores. We have observed the massive sea monsters that lurk in the depths so far below that surface that the crushing weight of the water surrounding them makes their mere existence a scientific wonder. Those that fear the ocean know that we have confirmed the existence of living creatures writhing beneath, and the fact that such beings are surrounding them. There is an observable limit to the space that holds the ocean, and in that space is a number of slimy, toothy, hungry creatures swimming about that could come upon them at any given moment. 

On the other hand, the space that is surrounding our planet is vast in the way that it is essentially limitless. Scientists, like Aristotle and Edwin Hubble, have observed that the universe is finite in the way that it has not always existed, but it is always expanding. If the universe had always existed, the sky would be white with stars, being that they would have had an infinite amount of time to have reached Earth. Edwin Hubble also discovered that our observable universe is expanding. That being said, while we live within an observable universe, there is still space that exists outside of this. While the ocean is proven to be teeming life, we are constantly trying to find signs of life outside of our beautiful blue planet. Although our search continues, this does not mean that space is empty. Of course, there are the planets in our solar system that we learn about in school, there are tons of explosive activities happening out there. There are black holes, asteroids, supernovas, and billions of other galaxies like our own. 

It is exactly the lack of creatures trying to eat us that draws me to the vastness of space, rather than the vastness of the ocean. It is the idea of something existing that is so immense that the entire history of human study has not been able to conclude a measurement for it, nor are people able to begin to imagine its size. I am afraid, don't get me wrong, but my curiosity wins over every time. I scour the internet for hours reading article after article until my anxiety gets the better of me and I have to put the phone down. How is everyone not worried about space all of the time? We are on a giant rock, flying through space, where other giant rocks are constantly bumping around out there. Nevermind that we are on a collision course with the Andromeda galaxy, or that we are counting down the days until the 2029 close call with asteroid Apophis causes whatever ruckus it has in store. Humanity is not taking the threat above our skies seriously enough. 

That is precisely why I have taken it upon myself to drive two hours into Maine to visit the national dark sky park. My grandfather's telescope is folded and shoved in the back of my dented blue Nissan Altima, next to a small backpack and a ratty old tent. Despite that it's 5pm on a Wednesday evening, I make sure to pull through a local drive thru to grab myself a coffee. I can’t do anything without grabbing a cup of iced coffee first. I blame my step-dad for this bad habit, making us five minutes late to any event so we could get our caffeine fix. I also packed myself a lunch (dinner?) for later so I can set up camp in a secluded spot without having to venture out to the nearest diner and ruin the rustic experience. 

As soon as I put my car in park, I text my friend, Sarah, to let her know that I have arrived. She should have arrived already, but punctuality has never been her strong suit. In the meantime, I can at least get settled. It takes two trips, but I manage to haul my small load into a small area on the side of the small pasture. A few other people have already taken residency in various spots, enjoying food and drinks with their companions. Just after I finish wrestling with the tent, my phone dings with a new message. 

Hey! Sorry I’m late :( I’m here now though! Where ya at?

Shaking my head, I type back, 

No worries haha go down the trail on the left and it will lead you right to me.

A follow up message never comes so I assume that she figured out the directions. Lo and behold, Sarah’s blonde ponytail comes bobbing out of the treeline a short while later. She wears a black t-shirt sporting her favorite bar, The Drinking Crow, a pair of jean shorts, and some black sneakers. She totes a neon pink backpack that, when viewed in direct sunlight, is nothing short of an eye soar. She walks over, her signature bounce in her step. That’s what I always loved about Sarah, she walked around like each day was the best day of her life. 

“Thanks for making it just in time to help set up the tent.” I laugh. 

“I said I was sorry!” She replies, genuinely looking sorry.

“It’s okay, really. I’m just glad you made it here. I haven’t seen you in so long.” 

“I know it really has been forever.” 

Sarah and I used to be neighbors before I had to move to Massachusetts following my parents divorce. It was a disgruntled transition, but Sarah promised that we would keep in touch. She indeed kept her promise, so for the last three years we have kept our sisterly friendship going strong. After I got my license in senior year, I drove up and spent a couple of weeks in the summer here, but between work and college it's hard to find the time to make the trip out anymore. 

Sarah gets to work setting up the picnic while I start fiddling with the telescope. I try my best to follow the instructions that my grandfather gave me. He had me twist and turn the different knobs until I got a clear enough focus on the moon, then let me play around looking at the different stars. Tonight, I’m looking for Saturn. I’ve researched where I should be looking in retrospect to the position of the moon in the sky. Unfortunately, I am inexperienced, so it takes me roughly half an hour to get the telescope set up properly with a somewhat blurred image of the moon visible through the lenses. I’ve worked up quite the appetite, so I leave the telescope to join Sarah, where she is already munching on a sandwich. We dine on our mediocre meal, catching up for a bit before we decide to play with the telescope. 

We manage to get it focused on the moon and spend a long while peering around craters of our planet’s silver companion. A couple people also brought their telescopes, but for the most part folks are simply chattering and enjoying the spattering of stars open to us with the curtain of light pollution pushed back. After a while Sarah becomes bored, and leaves to snack on some chips she brought in her bag. I figure this is an ample time to explore other regions of our surrounding black abyss. I do my best to try and locate Saturn, but end up staring into the darkness with increasing frustration for longer than I would like to admit. 

Eventually Sarah’s voice floats from behind me, 

“I’m getting tired. I think I’m going to turn in. You should really think about sleeping at some point tonight.” 

I blink the exhaustion from my eyes as I begin to take notice that we are the only people out in the clearing. Everyone else has gone into their tents, or just packed up and left. 

“I will, but I think “I’m going to stay out here for a little while longer.”

“Okay. Well if a bear or strange man tries to attack you, just yell and I will be outside of this tent in a heartbeat.” Sarah replies. She makes a show of showing off her muscles, nevermind the fact that the girl’s arms have always been just smaller than the size of a pool noodle. 

I laugh, watching her trip on the way into the tent. 

About twenty minutes later, just after 3am, I find Saturn. It’s almost too amazing to be real, and definitely worth the trouble it took to find it. The yellowish-brown gas planet sits suspended in emptiness, decorated with its signature rings. I can not stop imagining that if someone were to sit on Saturn and look at Earth, we would look similarly astonishing. They would see a cosmic anomaly suspended in nothing. If someone were to ask me when I felt most at peace I would describe this moment to them. The world breathing softly with sleep, my only company to fashionably dressed gas giant. 

And the asteroid coming right for it. It only takes a matter of seconds, and before I can gasp for breath, before I can process what I’m seeing, I watch as a massive rock hurtles through my solar friend. It’s almost as massive as the planet itself, so when it passes directly through, Saturn disintegrates right before my eyes. 

I rip my face from the telescope, desperately looking around to see if someone, anyone, witnessed what just happened. This is bad. This is really bad. I feel like a weight has been placed upon my chest and the air has become thick with my panic. Saturn’s rings are- were composed of a collection of asteroids and various space debris pulled in by Saturn’s gravity. If Saturn is no longer there to hold them in place, and a monstrous asteroid rocketed through them, that would send them all flying in different directions. Just as the sun begins to break over the horizon, the sound of everyone’s cell phones begin to chime as the United States Government sends out an emergency alert.