Sputnik

One of my first and favorite memories is from the late fifties when I was a preschooler. Weather permitting, my Mom would gather up a couple of old quilts, a flashlight and a couple of cold Cokes and we'd go to the hill just east of the farmhouse we rented. There the three of us would lie back on the sweet smelling quilts and drink in the night sky. Already full of millions of tiny lights, our quest was to find the one tiny light in the sky that moved - Sputnik. After staring at the sky through sleepy eyes for several minutes, we'd all claim we'd found it, but then, many times, one of us really did spot Sputnik to the excitement of us all. Our imaginations carried us up there to Sputnik, where in the dark of night the sun still shone. We thought of Martians and rocket ships and discussed our opinions about people living on the moon. I wish I'd thanked my Mom for those special midnights on the quilts. I just hope that maybe she had just as much fun as we did.