Aurum: Shining Dawn

Photo: Wikipedia

I'm still fussin' with the universe. Can't get my mind off of the utter magnificence of this planet we were born to ride. This big piece of rock that glitters like gold. Literally. Our planet is covered with gold. The only problem is that most of the pieces amount to the size of grain of sand in the Gobi Dessert. They are very tiny but numerous. The large veins that bristly prospectors dreamed of, and killed and fevered for, are located in only a handful of locations.

Millions of years ago, a super nova exploded. The heat of the discharge mingled with star matter and fused into gold. The explosion jettisoned particles of the metal far out into the universe. Some found their way to the newly forming Earth and became a part of its composition. This cool, tasteless metal is like no other. No wonder ancient alchemists failed to turn other metals into this lustrous, prized substance. They were no match for the power of an exploding star

Au is the symbol for the chemical element gold. It comes from aurum which means "shining dawn" in Latin. An appropriate name for something that was formed during the dawn of Earth. This icon of wealth and prestige has lured mankind to seek it for millenniums. Since gold never wears out and is always recycled, it's possible that some of the gold jewelry you wear was once a part of King Tut's mask or Roman coinage. It's has its place in our past, present and future. This metal is but one of many priceless treasures we've received from the universe. Its enduring nature is synonymous with humanity.

Alien's Jam Satellites

Zooming into a small fraction of the UKIDSS UDS field, the deepest infrared image ever obtained over such a large area. The zoom shows a relatively nearby spiral galaxy. Many of the faint red objects in the background are massive galaxies at distances of over 10 billion light years. Photo: Scientific Blogging-Science 2.0

I admit it. I am completely enamored with the universe. I never tire of reading about the cosmos. Or looking up into the vast ocean of space. And don't even get me started on the out of this world images sent back from the Hubble telescope. Their spectacular colors and exotic shapes are like a fine wine, intoxicating. I don't know why it just dawned on me that when we look further out into space, we are looking back in time. Looking 10 billion light years away is the same as looking 10 billion years back in time. I am in awe of the fact that nearly everything that has been in our universe since its beginning, is still there. Really!

One of my friends is an amateur cosmologist. A cosmologist is an astronomer who studies the evolution of time-space relationships. Last fall, he attended an astrophysics conference at his Alma mater. The scientists spoke about how they were having trouble getting a good look back because there is so much interference caused by the large number of satellites in orbit. One astronomer at the conference was able to arrange for all of the US satellites to be shut off for 24 hours. Another knew someone who had enough clout to get the Russian's to agree to shut theirs down for the same amount of time. They couldn't tell military what they were doing because, well, you know, they're all about the drama. They'd have gone nuts.

They discovered a couple of large galaxies which disputed existing theories that larger galaxies were formed by aggregate. In looking at the moons of Saturn, they found one with water. Water equals life. They only needed another half hour to see what happend at the Big Bang when the 24 hours was up. The satellites were activated again ending the episode. Scientists pretty much agree that the universe is 13.7 billion years old. And now they can tell what was happening up to 10^(-43) seconds (1/10 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000) of its formation.


Of course, one bloodhound reporter for a rag mag, like the Enquirer, sniffed out the part of the story where the satellites had been shut down. His take on the event? Alien's Jam Satellites. Since they found water on one of Saturn's moons, that may one day be true. But not that day.

Trading Places

A random universe? I think not. Would a random universe send me to a baby shower and a funeral on the same day? Back to back?

LeeLee glitters and brightens all around her. Even if you don't see auras, you can see this...her golden glow. Folding her hands across her unborn babe, lying solid and low in her belly, an intimate smile, in Mona Lisa fashion, softens her face.

G.G.'s absence is marked by old photographs, the bookmarks of one's life. Her still body, dulled and grayed in death's pallor, has been high-fired into bone-chipped powder. No more smiles for G.G. Or frowns either.


One life arriving.

One life leaving.

One mirroring hope and happiness.

The other, loss and sadness.

Gifts and Games.

Tissues and tears.


I can only imagine the Big Gal Upstairs coordinating these events:

Little soul...you go on into the body of Baby Isabelle. Old soul...you come on out of that used up, tumor ridden body and rest for a spell. Put your feet up, or what used to be your feet, while we talk about how you'll next come back to work on your karma.

Cosmic orchestration is intense. Wedding Planners and Air Traffic Controllers have it easy in comparison.


Everyone is happy to welcome the new baby...a new life...a blank slate open for great accomplishments and outcomes.

G.G.? Well, sad to say she made a lot of people miserable during her long life. I know it's not right to speak ill of the dead but, she didn't treat people well, especially family. It is what it is. She was who she was. To say it was not so would be lying. Which is worse?

She was Le Grand Bitch. Oh, not my words but those of her children and close family members who were with her through her last sucked breath. I know what they were talking about though. I witnessed G.G.'s reign of terror on many occasions. But even so, there were tears shed at her passing and the transition was hard. A memorial, that she didn't want, was held, anyway, with meat, cheese and veggie trays and salads and carrot cake.

There were a few people she'd made happy during her reign. I overheard them telling the family so. The family, gracious to the last, nodded, comforted and thanked them for their stories and memories.


G.G. left behind a husband who doesn't even know she's gone. Doesn't know his own name. Doesn't even remember that she existed. They told him she had passed. He doesn't know the difference between G.G.'s death and stuffed eggplant.

Still, the day a person takes their first breath and begins pumping blood is marked, as is their last. Two souls trading places in a universe less random than we think.

Would you care for some potato salad or a piece of carrot cake while you make the switch? Not going to be food like this, for either of you, for a long time.