A New Era of Lunar Exploration: An Inspiring Story

In these times of unprecedented advances in technology and science, space remains one of the greatest frontiers of exploration, one that has captured the minds of generations. With each new dawn, we find ourselves standing at the threshold of a new golden age of space exploration. Just as the Apollo astronauts inspired millions with their footprints on the Moon, today we continue to dream big and look toward the future.

And this Tuesday, June 9, that future gained names and faces: NASA officially announced the crew of Artemis III, the mission that in 2027 will rehearse in Earth orbit some of the most complex operations ever attempted in recent human spaceflight, paving the way for Artemis IV to carry us, in 2028, to the lunar South Pole.

The Four Chosen (and a Fifth Guardian)

The Artemis III crew reflects the very best humanity can offer when it brings together talent, discipline, and vocation:

Randy Bresnik (NASA), commander. A veteran of three spaceflights, a retired U.S. Marine Corps colonel, and a test pilot with more than 7,000 hours in 95 types of aircraft. Since 2018, he has overseen the development and testing of the systems that will fly on Artemis missions. Few people on the planet know the spacecraft he will now command better than he does.

Luca Parmitano (ESA), pilot. And here is the news that makes history: for the first time, a European Space Agency astronaut has been assigned to an Artemis mission. Parmitano, a colonel in the Italian Air Force and a test pilot, was the first Italian — and only the third European — to command the International Space Station. His assignment as pilot reflects the depth of European expertise in human spaceflight and his extensive operational experience in high-pressure situations.

Frank Rubio (NASA), mission specialist. A physician, a U.S. Army aviator, and the holder of the American record for the longest single-duration spaceflight: 371 days in orbit. If anyone understands what human endurance in space truly means, it's him.

Andre Douglas (NASA), mission specialist. For Douglas — an engineer with a doctorate in systems engineering and a former Coast Guardsman with experience in search and rescue operations — this will be his first spaceflight. He already served on the backup crew for Artemis II, and now it's his turn to walk through the door himself.

Named as backup crew member was Bob Hines, pilot of the Crew-4 mission to the International Space Station, who will train alongside the four prime crew members, ready to fill any seat should the need arise.

An Orbital Choreography Without Precedent

So what exactly will Artemis III do? Although the mission will not land on the Moon, it will likely be the most ambitious dress rehearsal in the history of space exploration.

The SLS (Space Launch System) rocket will launch the Orion spacecraft and its four crew members from NASA's Kennedy Space Center in Florida into low Earth orbit. Once there, Orion will demonstrate for the first time its rendezvous and docking capabilities with test versions of the two commercial lunar landers currently in development: Blue Origin's Blue Moon and SpaceX's Starship.

The plan is a true odyssey of precision. First, Blue Origin's test lander — capable of remaining in orbit for several weeks — will launch and await the crew. Then, SLS will send the astronauts aboard Orion, which will rendezvous in space with the Blue Origin lander and spend about two days docked to it, conducting tests and technology demonstrations that will include the crew entering the lander itself. With that phase complete, Orion will undock and await SpaceX's Starship, spending roughly a day connected to it for additional checkouts and testing.

Finally, Orion and its crew will return home, splashing down in the Pacific Ocean, where a team from the U.S. Navy and NASA will recover the astronauts. In total, the crew is expected to remain in space for about two weeks, with the exact mission length determined in real time based on launches, rendezvous, and docked operations.

Every system interface, every line of software, every propulsion and communications system between Orion and the landers will be put to the test. It's the difference between dreaming of returning to the Moon and knowing, with engineering certainty, that we can do it.

Europe at the Heart of Artemis

The Artemis program is a testament to the shared commitment of international agencies like ESA and NASA to push our frontiers beyond the known. For the first time, a European astronaut has been assigned to one of these missions, marking an era in which Europe doesn't merely participate — it plays a crucial role in humanity's return to our natural satellite.

And the European contribution goes far beyond a seat on the spacecraft. ESA's European Service Module is, quite literally, what gives Orion life: it provides propulsion, power, water, and air for the crew. As a European, born in Madrid, I confess this news strikes a special chord in me. Seeing Europe take its place at the very heart of the Artemis program is a reminder that space exploration, at its best, knows no exclusive flags: it is a project of all humanity.

The Road to 2027 Is Already Underway

As I write these lines, the work is moving forward at a steady pace. This summer, engineers will connect Orion's crew module to its service module and integrate the spacecraft's docking system, which will fly for the first time. Heat shield testing continues, with individual blocks undergoing ultrasonic inspections. SLS technicians are integrating the engine section with the rest of the core stage ahead of installing the four RS-25 engines, and with all the solid rocket booster segments now at Kennedy Space Center, rocket stacking is also set to begin this summer.

Meanwhile, Blue Origin and SpaceX are building the test articles for their respective lunar landers, with NASA working hands-on alongside both companies through every phase of design, development, and evaluation. The crew, for their part, begin training immediately — both on Orion's systems and by assisting in the development of the landers that will one day carry human beings back to the lunar surface.

All of this builds on the extraordinary foundation of Artemis II, the mission that in April carried four astronauts around the Moon and reignited global excitement for exploration. Those astronauts lit the torch; now they pass it to Randy, Luca, Frank, and Andre.

More Than Technology: The Human Spirit

The success of Artemis III will symbolize not only a technological achievement, but the human spirit itself: international collaboration, the passion to discover the unknown, and the shared vision that drives us forward. Because the final destination of this journey is not just the Moon. Every test, every docking, every lesson learned on these missions is a stepping stone toward the goal that defines this new golden age: sending the first human beings to Mars.

NASA Administrator Jared Isaacman summed it up with an image that perfectly captures the moment we are living through:

"Think about how many spacecraft, all of which will eventually carry human beings, will be in orbit at the same time — from Dragon, Shenzhou, Soyuz, possibly Starliner, Starship, and Blue Origin landers. This seems like the beginning of the future that we imagined as children."

And he's right. For the first time in history, the sky above our heads is beginning to resemble the one we used to draw in our school notebooks: a sky filled with spacecraft, with many flags, with human beings living and working beyond the Earth.

In moments like these, it's easy to feel inspired and full of hope. As our space leaders remind us, exploration is not just about achieving technical milestones; it's also about carrying the aspirations of an entire generation and building a legacy for those who come after us — just as the Apollo astronauts did for so many of us.

So, as the sun sets over our planet Earth and we contemplate the vastness of the universe — as I will tonight, like so many other nights, under the dark skies of the Nevada desert — let us remember that each one of us is part of this thrilling journey to the stars.

It is a never-ending story in which we are all protagonists.

An Honor and a Privilege: Closing My Chapter as Vice President of the LVAS Education Outreach Program

This is, quite possibly, the hardest post I have ever written on this blog.

This month I submitted my resignation as Vice President of the Education Outreach Program of the Las Vegas Astronomical Society, a position I have had the honor of holding since 2018.

Thank You for the Trust

I want to start with what matters most: gratitude. This position is not inherited or handed out; it is decided by election every two years. Receiving the vote of confidence of the association's members, election after election, throughout all these years, has been one of the greatest honors of my life. Every vote was a reminder of the responsibility I carried — and of the affection of this community.

Thank You to the Volunteers

To every volunteer who has been part of this program: thank you from the bottom of my heart. Nothing we accomplished would have been possible without you. Every star party, every event at libraries, parks, and schools, every telescope set up under the desert sky carries your fingerprints. You are, and always will be, the soul of this program.

Thank You, Stephen

I want to give a very special mention to Stephen Alan Bock, the Vice President who came before me. In 2018, Stephen gave me something money can't buy: the confidence in myself to begin this adventure. Without that push, none of this would have happened. Thank you, my friend.

A Road I Never Imagined

When I became a member of this association back in 2012, I never thought or imagined that I would have the opportunity to serve the Southern Nevada community in this way. From 2018 until today it has been many years, many nights, many faces lit up while looking through a telescope for the first time. It has been an honor and a privilege, followed by an extraordinary experience I will carry with me always.

The Why

Since this blog is my most personal space, I want to share the why in more detail.

A series of radical changes in my life, both professional and personal, have brought me to this crossroads. The biggest of them: I am part of the group building Nevada's first telescope farm, Death Valley Observatories, in Amargosa Valley. A project of this magnitude demands constant effort and a daily presence — not to mention the distance from Las Vegas. Between the farm and the city lie desert, miles, and hours that no longer allow me to support the program properly and with the dedication it deserves. And this program, and this community, deserve nothing less than full dedication. Out of respect for both, I am taking this step.

And why there, in the middle of the desert? Because in Death Valley, the night sky offers infinitely more than just darkness — it offers clarity, depth, and time.

• New Moon? Chances are high for clear skies: this region has among the lowest cloud cover in the United States.
• Photographing galaxies? Average atmospheric seeing here ranks among the finest nationwide, giving sharper, steadier views.
• Hunting faint molecular clouds? Sky darkness reaches 21.97 mag/arcsec² — close to the natural limit of Earth's night sky.
• Worried about optics fogging? Don't be: with some of the lowest humidity levels on the planet, your equipment stays clear all night.
• And surrounded by unobstructed horizons, every night offers more usable hours to explore the cosmos.

In the end, I am not stepping away from the mission — I am stepping closer to the sky. Everything I learned and lived at the LVAS comes with me into this new chapter.

This Is Not Goodbye

I will remain connected to the association as a member. I will remain under the same sky, looking up, sharing the same sense of wonder that has been with me since I was a child.

And speaking of that wonder: I want to thank my mother, who at age six sparked in me a love for the universe, and my sisters, patient and enthusiastic companions through so many nights under the stars. Everything I have done in these years was born from that support and that love.

Thank you for everything, Las Vegas Astronomical Society.

It has been an honor and a privilege.

Clear skies,

The Moon is back in play! And this time… we’re going there to stay.

Something happened to me today that I haven't felt in years: my lunar excitement returned.

And yes, I know that sounds like a cliché. But anyone who has followed space exploration over the last few years knows exactly what I’m talking about: promises, renders, slipping deadlines… Until today, when everything changed.

That spark I had as a child—when I used to imagine bases on other worlds—suddenly reignited. And it’s all thanks to NASA’s conference regarding the Moon Base program.

Because this time, they didn't talk about vague intentions.

They didn't talk about "someday."

They didn't show pretty renders with no attached dates.

No.

Today, they presented a real plan—complete with clear phases, contracted vehicles, scheduled missions, and a direct objective:

to establish a permanent human presence on the Moon.

And honestly… I was starting to lose faith.

But this restored my pride, my happiness, and the sense that we are entering a new era.

A program that finally has momentum and direction.

Moon Base is divided into three phases, and the first one is already underway:

• 25 launches
• 21 landings
• 4 tons of cargo delivered to the lunar South Pole

All of this between now and 2029. It’s a pace we haven't seen since the 1960s.

And the best part? Every mission contributes something; every vehicle tests a new capability; every landing paves the way for the next.

For the first time in decades, we aren't just improvising. We are building.

Vehicles already on the way (and that have me completely fascinated)

The conference was a flurry of announcements, but these are my favorites:

Blue Origin Mark 1 Endurance

The lander that will inaugurate Moon Base One.

Privately developed, robust, and designed to deliver cargo to the Shackleton Connecting Ridge in 2026.

Astrobotic Griffin

A cargo-hauling behemoth capable of carrying over 500 kg—including the FLEX rover.  The New LTV Rovers

This is where I got truly excited:

Astrolab CLV‑1 → Compact, autonomous, teleoperated, or crewed. 200 km range. 200 km! That is four times the range of any previous lunar or Martian rover.

Lunar Outpost Pegasus → Lightweight, rugged, ready for early missions. Designed to explore, map, and prepare the terrain for the base.

These vehicles aren't just conceptual prototypes. NASA has already signed the contracts. They are already under construction.

Lunar Drones: The Part That Feels Like Science Fiction

The announcement of the Moonfall system absolutely blew my mind. Hopping drones capable of:

• Exploring dark craters
• Mapping with centimeter-level resolution
• Searching for subsurface ice
• Surviving the lunar night
• Serving as communication relays
• And Firefly’s carrier spacecraft will deploy several at once, covering vast areas of the South Pole.

This means we will have constant communication—something we have never had on the Moon before. And that changes everything.

The Lunar South Pole: The New Continent to Discover

What excites me most is *what* we are going to explore. The South Pole is an extreme and mysterious place:

• Craters reaching –400°C
• Mountains illuminated almost year-round
• Ice deposits that could sustain human life
• Terrain that is virtually unknown

(Side note: in the entire history of humanity, we have accumulated only 80 hours of lunar spacewalks. Eighty. Over six decades.)

In the coming years, we could multiply that figure several times over. We are going to see:

• Spacewalks in regions never before trodden
• Rover traverses spanning hundreds of kilometers
• Deep exploration of eternally dark craters
• Installation of the first power and communication systems

And they haven't forgotten the most important thing: astronaut health. Pressure, radiation, decompression... they are investigating every detail to ensure this isn't a reckless adventure, but a safe exploration.

It’s hard not to get excited.

International Cooperation… and a Silent Race

Moon Base is not an isolated project. NASA has made it clear that it will be an international effort:

• Europe
• Korea
• Japan
• Commercial partners
• Universities
• New nations yet to join

But it is also true that China is advancing rapidly with its plans for a lunar base in the 2030s. It is not a hostile race, but it is, indeed, a competition of visions. And that—far from concerning me—I find fascinating. Humanity advances furthest when there is more than one player pushing forward.

An Extraordinary Time to Be Alive

Today, I regained something I thought I had lost: the faith that we would see a lunar base within our lifetime.

• And not just a base. A complete ecosystem:
• Landers
• Rovers
• Drones
• Constant communication
• International cooperation
• In-depth exploration of the South Pole
• And, above all, human footsteps that will mark a new era

The Moon is back in play. And this time, we aren't going just to visit. We are going to stay.

Thought of the Day: The Files Are Out. Now What?

On May 8, 2026, the U.S. government released decades of classified UAP files to the public. For many, this was a bombshell. For me, it felt like the first drop of a very long rain—a rain we’ve been promised, denied, and ridiculed about for more than eighty years. After decades of “nothing to see here,” suddenly there is something to see, and we’re being told it’s real. But only a drop at a time.

I’ve been fascinated by this topic for years—not because I believe in little green men, but because the questions it raises are some of the deepest a human being can ask. Who are we? Are we alone? And if we are not alone, what does that actually mean for how we live?

After sitting with these files, the whistleblower testimonies, the old myths, and the new theories, I find myself not with answers, but with better questions. And I think that’s exactly where we should be right now. The discomfort of not knowing is, in a strange way, the most honest place to stand.

Looking at the possibilities emerging from all of this, I can see at least four broad scenarios—and none of them are comfortable.

First, beings that mean us harm. Whether we call it slavery, resource extraction, or something darker dressed in the language of ancient demons, the result is the same: an encounter that leaves us diminished, injured, or afraid. What makes this narrative dangerous is how easily it can be weaponized. When a public figure calls these phenomena “demons from hell,” I don’t just hear a warning—I hear the opening notes of a crusade. And a crusade does not negotiate, does not distinguish between varieties of intelligence, and rarely ends with the best of us in charge.

Second, beings that offer help with hidden conditions. They arrive with gifts—technology, healing, protection from the other group—but the gifts come with a leash. Sign here, trust us, accept our framework, and we will save you. The chain might not be made of iron. It might be made of silk, woven from every solution we are desperate for. The danger isn’t invasion; it’s dependency. It’s waking up generations later to find we have forgotten how to solve our own problems, how to be our own civilization.

Third, beings that are simply passing through, indifferent to our existence entirely. They are here for a reason that has nothing to do with us. They are not hostile; they are not saviors. They are travelers on a highway, and we are a stone by the roadside they have never thought to notice. This might be the quietest wound of all. Not that we are threatened, not that we are enslaved, but that something ancient and wise is right next to us—and we will never know what being alive meant to them. A locked library floating through our skies, forever silent.

Fourth, something from beyond our dimension of reality, leaking into ours in ways we are only beginning to perceive. Perhaps they are observing an experiment. Perhaps our universe is a kind of simulation, and they are the programmers checking in on the runtime. Perhaps their “leak” is not even intentional—just a natural law we don’t yet understand. This possibility reminds us how young our science still is, and how much of what we call impossible is simply not yet measured.

What strikes me most, looking at these four possibilities, is what is missing from our public conversation. I hear no powerful voice saying, “They are here to say hello.” I hear no serious official exploring the possibility that some of these intelligences might be curious observers, not demons or manipulators. The loudest narratives are the ones that push us toward fear, dependency, or crusade—and that should make us deeply suspicious. Who benefits when we are herded into only threat-based interpretations?

But here is what I keep coming back to, and what I want to offer you as a place to stand: regardless of which scenario turns out to be true, or which mix of them, or something we haven’t yet imagined—we are still human. The best and worst of us is still ours. We are still the ones who choose, every day, whether to be cruel or kind, curious or closed, generous or grasping. No outside force, however ancient or advanced, changes that responsibility. That’s not naivety. It’s a refusal to let our moral center be held hostage by a revelation we did not ask for.

I don’t know if God made us, or if we are a beautiful accident of evolution, or if we are part of a design so vast we cannot see its edges. And I don’t need to know that to know that we are capable of looking for the best in ourselves. Not a perfect version, not a hall-of-fame version—just the version that faces uncertainty without immediately reaching for a sword or signing away its soul.

I invite you to explore these ideas with me. Not to arrive at certainty, but to sit with the uncertainty together. To ask better questions. To notice which narratives make us afraid and which ones make us curious. And to figure out—while we wait for the universe to reveal itself, drop by drop—what kind of humans we want to be.

Thought of the Day: The Golden Thread of Mustard

It started with a simple question: where does mustard come from? It seemed straightforward—a condiment, a flavor, something in a jar. But pulling on that thread carried me across three thousand years of human history.

From the Mediterranean fields where wild mustard first grew, to the Egyptian tombs where seeds were placed beside the dead, to the Roman kitchens where cooks ground those seeds with grape must and called it mustum ardens—the burning must. The Greeks used it as medicine. The Romans spread it across their empire. Medieval popes loved it so much they created entire offices dedicated to its preparation. And somewhere along the way, this humble plant found its place in the kitchens of China, India, Africa, and eventually every corner of the world.

A flavor that traveled along the Silk Road and in the holds of galleons. That nourished emperors, healers, and peasants. That became ritual, remedy, and rebellion—all in a single spoonful.

What struck me wasn’t just the history—it was the continuity. A flavor that traveled trade routes for millennia, that fed emperors and healers, that wove itself into the fabric of human culture.

And now, as we reach toward the Moon and Mars, I find myself wondering: will mustard seeds travel with us? Will a future Martian kitchen contain this ancient plant, this thread connecting us back to Mediterranean farmers we will never know?

Because in the end, space exploration isn’t only about technology, rockets, or pressurized habitats. It is culture in motion. It is the continuity of our stories, our flavors, our traditions. It is the possibility that a plant born under the Mediterranean sun might one day grow beneath a lunar dome or season a meal on Mars.

That is the real wonder: that when we travel to other worlds, we carry not only tools but traditions. We are not merely trying to survive; we are bringing with us the full essence of who we are. Mustard, like so many other plants, is a quiet reminder that humanity’s expansion into space is also an expansion of identity.

Perhaps, when someone in a distant future opens a small jar of mustard in a Martian habitat, they won’t just be tasting an ancient flavor. They will be participating in a story that began thousands of years ago, in a Mediterranean field, with a plant that never imagined it would travel so far.

Artemis II – Day 8 (April 8, 2026)

 Almost there—Integrity is heading home!

The crew—Wiseman, Glover, Koch, and Hansen—woke up to the sounds of "Under Pressure" (Queen & Bowie) while 200,278 miles from Earth and 83,549 miles from the Moon, on their way home.

Day's Highlights

Health and Exercise

Exercise session using the flywheel (a cable system for aerobics and resistance training), part of the daily fitness regimen.

Anti-Orthostatic Suit Test

All four crew members evaluated the lower-body compression garment worn underneath the Orion survival suit. Its function is to combat orthostatic intolerance—dizziness or fainting upon standing—after prolonged periods in microgravity.

Manual Control of Orion (~10:55 p.m. EDT)

The crew will manually pilot the capsule into a "tail-to-Sun" attitude, testing the guidance, navigation, and control systems while managing temperature and power generation.

Press Conference (~10:45 p.m. EDT)

Media representatives will have the opportunity to speak with the crew following their historic lunar flyby.

Splashdown Preparations

The crew will begin stowing equipment and installing their seats in preparation for reentry.

The demonstration of the radiation shielding deployment was canceled to prioritize cabin preparations.

Scheduled Splashdown: Friday, April 10, at 8:07 p.m. EDT off the coast of San Diego.

Live coverage begins at 6:30 p.m. on NASA+, Amazon Prime, Netflix, Apple TV, HBO Max, and more.

Artemis II – Day 7: Goodbye Moon, Hello Earth (April 7, 2026)

A Day of Perfect Transition: From Lunar History to the Reality of Return

The crew woke up to the sounds of "Tokyo Drifting" by Glass Animals and Denzel Curry—236,022 miles from Earth and 36,286 miles from the Moon. The journey home had begun.

Highlights:

Departure from the Lunar Sphere of Influence

At 1:23 p.m., Orion officially crossed the 41,072-mile threshold from the Moon, exiting its gravitational sphere. From that moment on, it is Earth that "pulls" them in. A subtle yet symbolically powerful milestone—the Moon lets them go, and Earth reclaims them.

First Images of the Flyby

The White House and NASA shared the first photographs from the flyby: the "Earthset" (Earth sinking below the lunar horizon) and the solar eclipse as seen from Orion. Images destined to become icons of this mission.

Historic Call Between Spacecraft

The Artemis II crew held a 15-minute call with the Expedition 74 astronauts aboard the ISS—Jessica Meir, Jack Hathaway, Chris Williams, and Sophie Adenot. A conversation between humans at two very different points in space—something that has occurred very rarely in history.

Lunar Scientific Debriefing

At 3 p.m., the crew met with the ground-based science team to share their impressions of the flyby while the details were still fresh. Scientists are eager to analyze observations, images, and data regarding the six meteoroid impact flashes detected during the eclipse.

First Return Burn

At 8:03 p.m.—one hour ahead of schedule—Orion fired its thrusters for just 15 seconds, changing its velocity by 1.6 feet per second. Brief in duration, significant in meaning: the first of three correction burns that will guide the crew back home. Koch and Hansen monitored the systems during the maneuver.

The USS John P. Murtha is Underway

The recovery ship has already set sail for the rendezvous point in the Pacific, preparing for the final splashdown. The logistics of the return are in motion.

Preparing for the Physical Return

On Flight Day 8, the crew will test orthostatic tolerance garments—specialized clothing that helps maintain blood pressure and circulation during readaptation to Earth's gravity. After weeks in microgravity, the human body needs assistance remembering how to function under weight.