One small step

Yesterday was the fiftieth anniversary of the first American manned space flight. This morning I went for a run. I jogged across the field at Bluemont park in the flat early morning light. The brown winter grass was covered with frost. No one else was around; the only sound was my feet crunching the ground. It felt very much like taking a jog on another planet. If a local park can feel this otherworldly, what must the real experience of being in space be like?