I’ve probably seen the animation of the MER Rover bounce across the surface of Mars two or three dozen times now. But each time it fills me with the same sense of wonder and awe… I’m starting to understand the mystical reverence that finds its way into my parents’ voices when they talk about the Moon landing in 1969; amidst social chaos and an unwinnable war, there were those grainy images of Armstrong to send chills up the spine.
Tonight, Kate and I clicked through today’s set of images from the Rover. She doesn’t quite get the scale of the achievment, but loves the movies of the countdown, the liftoff and the landing animation. Sliding off my lap after reaching her requisite 15 minute limit for any one particular activity, she turned up to look at me and said “Daddy, I want to go to Mars.”