People have always looked at the moon, told stories of the moon, dreamed of the moon. But only recently has one walked on the moon. Anyone with eyes, from any place outdoors, can look at the face of the moon. And if you could look close enough you would see tracks left in the dust by their gloved hand; tracks that may well be eternal in stillness.
I don't see stars very well at home in the city. I don't look at a lot of things that are harder to see, even though I know they're there and I ought to try. The moon is higher and brighter than any streetlight and I know it bears the footprints of old men. So I look at it. And I think about how impossible, how fantastical it might have sounded 50 years before it happened. And I think about how nobody has walked on it in my lifetime.
Is it better to achieve the impossible once? To let it stay as much impossible and as much achievable as it can be at the same time? Who is moved by dreams of technically difficult yet solved problems, when they could dream of the fantastic?
There are more practical goals to shoot for. Goals that seem impossible for different reasons, but are still waiting for the right implementation of resources and organization. They would serve us here better, even if they are harder to see and harder to look at. So I find myself looking, again, at the moon.