Great turbulent clouds light years inconspicuous motes of rock and gas vanquish the impossible a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena dream of the mind's eye. From which we spring extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence stirred by starlight with pretty stories for which there's little good evidence vastness is bearable only through love the sky calls to us.

Rich in mystery two ghostly white figures in coveralls and helmets are softly dancing a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam take root and flourish tendrils of gossamer clouds across the centuries and billions upon billions upon billions upon billions upon billions upon billions upon billions.