I am a grain of sand below a gravestone. This is the magnitude of the flat monolith that defines the horizon of the red planet. Here it has stood, unobserved by humankind for all our short years and through poor luck or willful ignorance, it is only now a living person lays eyes upon it.
Its shadow is cast upon miles and miles of rusty dirt. It is just rock, shaped into unnatural lines. Why? By who? By what process?
To be in its presence is an alien experience. Wrapped in nylon and glass, I am millions of miles from birdsong and sun-warmed breezes. Even the pull of gravity is different here. I am not where I am supposed to be. But I am here nonetheless, gazing up at this monstrosity.
These unknowns terrify the mind beyond reason. A deeper instinct shudders. A survival mechanism is activated. But beyond that, the unique, human terror of the unknown is found not in its lack of understanding, but in our insatiable desire to run towards it.
And so bobbing on this tide of doubt, I find myself being pulled by the current towards the inexplicable, ignoring the tell-tale warnings of my forebearers, letting slip the last ties to the known.
Paddy Dobson
8th August 2020