Martian river
I used to travel alot. Long international flights could become boring but I liked nothing more than to look out of the window down at the landscape 6 miles below me. I used to pit my geographical knowledge against navigational abilities to see if I could identify towns, cities, rivers, landmarks. It helped pass the time. Once I picked out Monument Valley on the brown Utah landscape. I was able to identify some of the towering features but couldn't get over how an area it had taken most of a day to explore in a car could be the size of a sixpence against the featureless desert around.
The best time was when I had been flying for ages: a few months actually, and I had dozed off, forehead leaning against the cold window. I awoke and through bleary eyes looked down. I didn't instantly recognise it a convolusion of channels leading across the land. Rivers, gorges and canyons. And then I remembered. Mars. I was flying over Mars. And the sunlight glinted off the surface. Water? Water? Every where? Had I just discovered water on Mars?
Unfortunately that's nothing like the truth. I often work my way round to a little cove along from Camusdarrach to find unusual patterns and colours on the beach. Here a little oil seeps into the bog that feeds the burn down onto the beach, the oil catching the light like sun on a river estuary. With dark and light sands, this is my impression of what a Martian river might (have) look like. (this section of sand being about 12 inches across)
Martian river
I used to travel alot. Long international flights could become boring but I liked nothing more than to look out of the window down at the landscape 6 miles below me. I used to pit my geographical knowledge against navigational abilities to see if I could identify towns, cities, rivers, landmarks. It helped pass the time. Once I picked out Monument Valley on the brown Utah landscape. I was able to identify some of the towering features but couldn't get over how an area it had taken most of a day to explore in a car could be the size of a sixpence against the featureless desert around.
The best time was when I had been flying for ages: a few months actually, and I had dozed off, forehead leaning against the cold window. I awoke and through bleary eyes looked down. I didn't instantly recognise it a convolusion of channels leading across the land. Rivers, gorges and canyons. And then I remembered. Mars. I was flying over Mars. And the sunlight glinted off the surface. Water? Water? Every where? Had I just discovered water on Mars?
Unfortunately that's nothing like the truth. I often work my way round to a little cove along from Camusdarrach to find unusual patterns and colours on the beach. Here a little oil seeps into the bog that feeds the burn down onto the beach, the oil catching the light like sun on a river estuary. With dark and light sands, this is my impression of what a Martian river might (have) look like. (this section of sand being about 12 inches across)