Blue Marble

It's the fortieth anniversary of the Apollo 17 astronauts' famous photo of earth from space, the  Writer's Almanac tells me. It was the first time our planet was photographed whole and entire, its mountains and deserts and oceans in clear relief. Clouds like tufts of baby's hair after a bath, when you comb it, still wet, into ridges and whorls.

It is a snapshot in time — a cyclone forms over the Indian Ocean — but so much more. It is our own precious, fragile earth. And it was the last time humans would be in a position to photograph it. (Robots were in charge of subsequent lunar missions.)

Just coincidentally, the Writer's Almanac informs me that today is also the birthday of writer Willa Cather, who said, "We come and go but the land is always here. And the people who love it and understand it are the people who own it — for a little while."

When we see our planet from space, how can we not love it more?  Not just our own corner of it, but all of it. How can we not want to do everything we can to protect it?

Photo: NASA