We were settled in for the Masters Par 3, watching the rain come down sideways in torrents, when the weather decided to make things personal; the boat canopy was flying off. I went out to battle the gusts, but the tropical depression had brought more than just wind; it brought a rare visitor to the Intracoastal.
Gliding through the water by the dock was a beautiful spotted sea hare (Aplysia dactylomela). I ran in to get my phone, my old life as a marine biologist collided with my inner George Costanza. I captured the footage, but the “sea” demanded a sacrifice. As I climbed into the boat, my phone slipped into the murky depths.
Thankfully, Meredith witnessed the plunge. I ran inside, grabbed my mask and went in after it, successfully retrieving the phone—still functional—from the bottom of the canal. I emerged with the footage intact with a few oyster shell battle scars from the ladder rungs. A frantic, terrific ten minutes, of which the accompanying footage will prove the sacrifice was well worth it.
David Nadas
Science Fiction. Futuristic Insights. Human Perspectives.
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There is a specific kind of hum in the air today. If you are lucky enough to be from the Space Coast–– sitting at the bar in the Playa Linda Brewery the night before, surrounded by space enthusiasts from around the word, drinking and Artemis IPA while a Music Trivia of 80’s alternative spins in the background–– well…. it’s hard to describe. For us Floridians, it’s the heartbeat of the neighborhood. You feel it before you see it—that subtle, restless static in the humidity that says we’re about to punch a hole in the sky.
Honestly, it’s wild how the future has just become our Tuesday. Where else on Earth do you check the local news and get T-minus countdowns sandwiched right between the rip-current alerts and the afternoon thunderstorm track? It’s a surreal, beautiful way to live.
My mind keeps drifting back to 2018. I can still feel the grit of the Cape’s sand and the way the air literally rattled my chest when the Falcon Heavy took flight. Watching that Tesla Roadster—with “Starman” casually leaning against the door—climb into the blue was peak humanity. It’s crazy to think that while we’re down here drinking coffee and checking the weather, he’s still out there, drifting through the silent black, a permanent resident of the stars.
The engines are cooling on the pad, the countdown is ticking, and honestly? There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
Artemis Launch time today is at
Today, at 6:24 EST.
David Nadas 