2025 The Year We Looked into the Abyss and Found Stars.

If I had to describe 2025 with a single image, it would be that of a prism. A year that, depending on where you looked, refracted either the most blinding light or the deepest shadows. It has been a period woven with threads of despair and hope, where the roar of conflicts has competed with the silent whisper of discoveries. And today, as we close this chapter, I am overcome by an intense reflection, tinged with both concern and a tenacious, unwavering faith.

The Lengthening Shadow: A World at a Crossroads

My heart has been deeply saddened by the disturbing global trend that has marked these months. We have witnessed how racial and nationalist hatred has raised its voice from the pulpits of power and the cracks of societies, not as a ghost of the past, but as a political tool of the present. Division has been cemented, transforming disagreements into chasms and neighbors into adversaries. In too many corners, we have seen frontal attacks on fundamental freedoms, a slow dismantling of the pillars we thought were firm.

Added to this is a technological uncertainty that leaves us all breathless. Artificial intelligence, and its impact on the world, is advancing at a speed that challenges our ethics, our legislation, and even our understanding. We ask ourselves, with genuine fear: will it liberate us or subjugate us? Will it amplify our humanity or extinguish it?

The planet itself has groaned under the weight of our neglect. The devastating fires in Los Angeles, fueled by winds of a new extreme climate, were not an isolated accident, but a sign in flames. Meanwhile, conflicts like the war in Gaza and the persistent suffering in Ukraine have painted the map with the color of human tragedy, reminding us how fragile peace is.

The Gleam in the Darkness: Seeds for a New Dawn

But precisely because we looked directly into the darkness, the flashes of light are seen more clearly. And 2025, against all odds, has been full of them. They are seeds planted today to flourish in 2026 and beyond. I cling to them tightly.

My gaze first turns to the cosmos. While on Earth we debated borders, humanity signed a pact of collaboration for the Moon. The Artemis Accords, already endorsed by more than 50 nations, are not just a plan to set foot on our satellite again. They are a promise of a permanent and peaceful presence, a beacon of what we can achieve together. Demonstrating that access to space is an increasingly shared reality. Even the emotional farewell of the Akatsuki probe at Venus, loaded with messages from Hatsune Miku fans, speaks to a science that does not renounce culture and heart.

In the vast blue of our own planet, another project has taken my breath away: The Nippon Foundation–GEBCO Seabed 2030. The titanic mission to map 100% of the ocean floor by the end of this decade is perhaps the greatest exploratory adventure of our time. It is the recognition that we have an entire world to discover right here, in the depths that hold the secrets of our climate, our geology, and our own history.

And in the search for a sustainable future, one word has resonated strongly: hydrogen. From being a promise at COP25 in Madrid, it has become the protagonist of the 2025 energy transition. It is no longer a pipe dream; it is the technology that powers fuel cell electric vehicles (FCEVs), promises to decarbonize industries, and stands as a key pillar for achieving balance with our planet. It is the materialization of hope in a chemical equation.

Final Reflection: The Mosaic of Humanity

So, what does this contradictory 2025 leave us with? I am left with the idea of ​​the mosaic.

The painful list of civilians killed in endless conflicts. The death of one Pope and the election of another; the return to power of controversial figures and citizen resistance. This disordered and complex mosaic is a reflection of our time. It pains us because we are human. It amazes us because we are curious. And we keep going because, deep down, we are inherently hopeful.

The year 2026 doesn't arrive as a blank slate. It comes laden with the projects that are germinating today: the mapping of our oceans, the race for clean energy, the construction of a permanent gateway to the Moon. It arrives with the lesson, hard-learned in 2025, that the path of hatred and division only leads to the abyss.

Therefore, as we bid farewell to this year, I choose to focus my gaze not on the chasm, but on the bridges we are building across it. I choose to marvel at the 6,000 exoplanets we have discovered, which teach us the immensity of what is possible. I choose to believe that the same species capable of so much destruction is also the only one capable of mapping the unknown, of searching for life among the stars.

Thought of the day: Francisco Silva

Don't let your thoughts and doubts about your future become the fog that obscures your present. 

by Francisco Silva.

A Night of Celestial Capture: The Mysterious Beauty of IC 443

On a cold night, illuminated by the magic of the stars, on December 25, 2020, in the northern sky at 116° West and 36° North, my Seestar S50 telescope became a window to the universe. It was then that I captured the image that now invites me to reflect on the marvelous emission nebula IC 443.

A Glimpse into the Universe

IC 443, located in the constellation Lynx, unfolds before us like a cosmic canvas full of color and movement. With its extensive and complex shape, this nebula is not only an astronomical structure but also a symbol of the eternal dance between stellar birth and transformation.

Celestial Labyrinths

Upon closer observation, IC 443 appears as an intricate labyrinth formed by filaments of gas and dust. These delicate structures stretch and distort under the influence of the powerful shock waves from its young and restless stars, shaping the celestial landscape with their unpredictable patterns.

Filaments and Clouds: Dark filaments cut through the nebula like cosmic looms weaving a silent story of creation. These are dense clouds where dust blocks the light, casting shadows that enhance the brightness of the gas behind them.

Stellar Cores: In some areas, bubble-shaped structures reveal the vigorous effects of stellar winds and radiation. Here, regions of higher density are observed, possibly future homes for new stellar associations.

A Mosaic of Colors

The color palette of IC 443 is an inexhaustible source of visual inspiration and scientific information. Each hue reveals a fragment of the creative process taking place within it.

Red and Blue: The intense red, a product of hydrogen alpha (Hα) emission, tells us about areas ionized by the ultraviolet radiation of young stars. On the other hand, blue and cyan indicate the presence of ionized oxygen (OIII), revealing regions where massive stars are forming.

Green and Yellow: These colors are a fascinating blend that suggests not only oxygen emission but also interaction with interstellar dust, a cosmic scenario where light and matter meet.

The Heart of the Cosmos

At its center, a bright star presides over the nebula. This young, massive star is the energy source that transforms matter into an astronomical masterpiece. Its radiation not only illuminates but also breathes life into the surrounding regions, fostering the birth of new stars.

Final Reflection

Contemplating IC 443 is a reminder of the beauty and complexity of the universe. Every detail observed speaks to fundamental processes in our understanding of the cosmos: the formation of stars, the interaction between matter and energy, and the eternal cycle of creation and destruction that defines our place in the vast firmament.

A Night of Celestial Capture: The Comet C/2023 A3 (Tsuchinshan–ATLAS)

The night of December 20, 2020, will forever be etched in my memory as one of the most magical I have ever experienced. That night, in a corner of the sky at latitude 36N and longitude 116W, I encountered a celestial visitor: comet C/2023 A3 (Tsuchinshan–ATLAS). With my Seestar S50 as my faithful companion, we spent 84 minutes together capturing its ephemeral essence. This was more than just an astronomical observation; it was an encounter with the ethereal beauty of the universe.

A Search in the Immense Sky

Since I first learned about the comet, I knew that its sighting would be special. With 1.8 AU (269 million kilometers) as its closest distance to our planet, its trajectory guaranteed a safe and risk-free observation. But its beauty wasn't to be measured in distance; it was the perfect moment to connect with such a mysterious and transient phenomenon.

Armed with my equipment, I ventured into the cold, starry night. My Seestar S50, faithfully mounted on a sturdy tripod, began its meticulous dance with the sky, tracking every movement of the comet.

The Visual Capture

The image I finally obtained was more than a photograph; it was a visual poem. In it, the comet stood as the absolute protagonist of a celestial stage populated by countless stars. Its diffuse, linear structure stood out majestically against the black background of the universe, reminding me of the infinity that surrounds us.

I was fortunate enough to capture two versions: one in positive with that natural black background so familiar to amateur astronomers, and another in negative, where the subtleties of the coma and tail were revealed like never before. The negative version allowed me to appreciate how the comet's "trail" extended its presence almost to the edge of the surrounding stars, a sight that would have gone unnoticed with the naked eye. A Journey Through Morphology and Colors

The comet displayed a classic morphology: a slightly brighter head or coma followed by an elegant tail of dust and gas. Although I couldn't distinguish multiple tails, every detail integrated into a harmonious structure that reminded me of the fragility and ephemeral beauty of time.

Neutral tones dominated the image: a typical white/grayish color of dust particles reflecting sunlight. But amidst that subtlety, the surrounding stars offered their own chromatic palette, with bluish and yellowish hues that told stories of birth and evolution.

Reflections on Time and the Universe

As I looked at the captured image, I couldn't help but reflect on time. A comet like C/2023 A3 (Tsuchinshan–ATLAS) is a celestial traveler that passes by only once every millions of years. And yet, its presence felt so close that night, as if it wanted to remind me of the importance of appreciating every moment.

The precise tracking of my Seestar S50 during those 84 minutes was crucial for capturing the background stars with sharpness, further proof of the meticulous work that underlies what might seem like a simple click. Every detail in the image was the result of hours of planning and dedication.

An Encounter That Inspires

That night not only gifted me a spectacular photograph but also a renewed perspective on my place in the cosmos. Comet C/2023 A3 (Tsuchinshan–ATLAS), with its names that evoke the cultures and observatories that discovered it, became a symbol of universal connection.

Every night, when we look at the sky, there is an infinity of stories waiting to be told. And perhaps, in that constant search for beauty and knowledge, we will find not only comets but also a part of ourselves reflected in the universe.

The Light Eaters: How the Unseen World of Plant Intelligence Offers a New Understanding of Life on Earth by Zoë Schlanger

 Between the Root and the Algorithm: The Trap of Humanizing Silence

Sometimes, in our eagerness to understand the world, we make the mistake of wanting the world to resemble us. I have just closed the pages of *The Light Eaters* by Zoë Schlanger, and I am left with a bittersweet sensation—a blend of botanical fascination and a skepticism that I neither can nor wish to silence.

As someone who has spent years observing the skies and dissecting the logic of computational systems, I know that the universe is vast and complex. But I also know that science does not operate on "wishful thinking." No matter how much I might wish to feel that the sky is purple, atmospheric physics has other plans.

The Mirror of Consciousness

The book immerses us in plant neurobiology—a field that challenges our blindness toward the green world. It speaks to us of plants that "remember," that "communicate," and that "make decisions." And while the biological data is astonishing—those chemical signals traveling like data packets across a wireless network—there is an invisible line that the text crosses all too frequently: the line between mechanism and sentiment.

I have felt that connection myself. I have paused to admire flowers and felt that there is a "truth" within that moment of stillness. But that is a subjective truth—a gem of human experience that I cherish. However, it is not evidence. To conflate my own emotion as an observer with the cognitive capacity of the observed is a translational error.

Science Without Projections

Plants do not need to resemble us to be extraordinary. They do not need to "suffer" for their response to stress to be a marvel of evolutionary engineering. To view them as "green humans" is, at its core, a lack of respect for their own distinct nature. Their intelligence is something else entirely: it is distributed computation—a network of sensors processing light and gravity with a precision that we would envy for our very best algorithms. Our human fragility requires a destination, and part of that journey involves learning to pause and admire the flowers without feeling the need to project our own shadows onto them.

The Rigor of Wonder

I hold fast to a kindled curiosity, yet with an ever-vigilant gaze. I prefer a science that speaks to me of ion channels and action potentials—of hard, verifiable realities—rather than a narrative that attempts to sway me through sentiment alone.

The beauty of a plant lies not in the notion that we are "spiritual kin," but in the fact that, in some lost corner of the cosmos, matter organized itself in such a way that it can consume light. And that—without the need for romantic embellishments—is miracle enough.

A new goal for humanity: Towards a permanent presence on the Moon

Space exploration has always been one of humanity's greatest collective achievements. It represents our innate curiosity, our ability to push boundaries, and our aspiration to unite in a greater purpose that transcends borders, ideologies, and differences. In that spirit, I enthusiastically celebrate the recent announcement accelerating the return of humans to the Moon and the establishment of a permanent base.

On December 18, 2025, an executive order was signed committing the United States to returning astronauts to the lunar surface by 2028 through the Artemis program and establishing the initial elements of a permanent lunar outpost by 2030. This plan includes the development of nuclear reactors for sustainable energy on the Moon, partnerships with the private sector, and preparations for future missions to Mars.

This progress comes at a pivotal moment, following NASA's celebration of the fifth anniversary of the Artemis Accords on November 20, 2025. These agreements, established in October 2020, have grown to include 59 nations, with the recent addition of Hungary, Malaysia, and the Philippines. This expansion reflects a growing global commitment to the peaceful, transparent, and responsible exploration of space, in a context where international cooperation is essential to prevent conflict and promote the common good.

NASA Acting Administrator Sean Duffy emphasized how the participation of these new signatories strengthens the global commitment to safe and peaceful exploration, especially at a time when some seek to militarize space. The Artemis Accords promote key principles such as non-interference in the space activities of others, mitigation of orbital debris, interoperability of systems for more efficient operations, and the release of scientific data. In September 2025, a meeting of leaders was held in Sydney, co-hosted by NASA with agencies from Australia and the United Arab Emirates, where global leaders discussed these topics, fostering transparency and information sharing.

In addition, NASA has announced a 2026 workshop for signatories, focused on transparency and data sharing regarding lunar missions, which will help prevent harmful interference. As an example of this collaboration, four CubeSats from South Korea, Saudi Arabia, Argentina, and Germany will fly on the Artemis II mission, demonstrating how diverse nations contribute to a shared effort.

Beyond the technical and strategic aspects—such as attracting private investment, modernizing launch infrastructure, and strengthening space security—what deeply inspires me is the human potential of this initiative. A permanent base on the Moon is not just a technical outpost: it is a step toward expanding human consciousness, a place from which we can observe our fragile Earth with new perspectives, foster innovations that benefit all of humanity (from medical advances to sustainable technologies), and remember that, in the vast cosmos, we are one species.

The Artemis program, with its emphasis on international collaboration and the involvement of the commercial sector, opens the door for more nations and companies to participate. Imagine: scientists from around the world working together on the lunar surface, sustainably extracting resources, building habitats that could serve as models for solving terrestrial challenges like resource scarcity or climate change. With the growth of the Artemis Accords—which have multiplied their number of signatories from just eight founders to 59 in five years—there is a clear surge in the global commitment to shaping a safe, peaceful, and prosperous future in space.

I wholeheartedly support a return to the Moon and the establishment of a permanent base there, not for nationalist or political reasons, but because it represents the next logical step in the evolution of our civilization. It is an investment in the future of humanity, in our scientific knowledge, in our technological capabilities, and, fundamentally, in our collective imagination.

At the same time, we must ensure that this new era of space exploration is conducted with the highest humanistic ideals. We must advocate for international cooperation, for peaceful exploration, for the open exchange of scientific knowledge, and for ensuring that the benefits of these technologies are widely shared. Space should be a frontier that unites humanity, not one that divides it.

At the same time, we must ensure that this new era of space exploration is conducted with the highest humanist ideals. We must advocate for international cooperation, for peaceful exploration, for the open exchange of scientific knowledge, and for ensuring that the benefits of these technologies are widely shared. Space must be a frontier that unites humanity, not one that divides it.

When the first person looks back at Earth from the windows of the permanent lunar base, they will see a world without visible borders, a beautiful and fragile planet floating in the void. This perspective, known as the "overview effect," has transformed every astronaut who has experienced it, giving them a profound appreciation for the unity of life and humanity.

Sources: Official White House and NASA press releases and specialized reports.

Images produced by Gemini and Copilot AI.

A Night of Celestial Capture: M8, M17, M13, M16 and M10

 There are nights when the sky doesn't just allow itself to be photographed: it allows itself to be heard.

Each object seems to speak with its own accent, its own pulse, with a story that cannot be contained in a single exposure. This series of images—M8, M17, M13, M16, and M10—was born in this way: as a silent dialogue between the camera, light, and time.

What follows is not just a technical analysis. It is an invitation to look more slowly, to feel the weight of the light that travels thousands of years to reach us, to remember that every astronomical photograph is also a self-portrait: that of the one who looks.

M8 — The Crab Nebula: An Echo of Explosion and Rebirth

In the midst of this journey appears M8, a cosmic masterpiece that seems painted with brushstrokes of fire and shadow.

“Complex shapes of dark filaments snake through bright gaseous clouds, forming a landscape of irregular morphology with swirls and protrusions.”

The Crab Nebula is a witness to both violence and beauty.

The intense red of ionized hydrogen dominates the scene, mingling with violets and pinks that reveal the presence of oxygen and other elements. Interstellar dust adds deep shadows, as if the nebula held secrets within its folds.

Inside, young stars act as cosmic streetlights, ionizing the gas and igniting the canvas. Dark filaments slice the light into fragments, creating a visual drama that seems choreographed.

But what's most breathtaking is its story:

About 8,000 years ago, a star exploded in a monumental supernova.

Its light traveled 8,500 years to reach us.

And in 1054, a Chinese astronomer recorded it as a "star guest" visible to the naked eye for months.

M8 is not just a nebula.

It's a bridge between civilizations.

A letter sent from the past.

M17 — The Hand of God: where fire is born

The first image opens like a red and blue whisper against a starry background. “The image presents a stunning view of a nebula, characterized by a complex diffuse structure and a vibrant color palette.” And it's true: M17 doesn't just show itself, it unfolds.

Its filaments resemble curtains of illuminated gas, twisting as if they were breathing. The red of ionized hydrogen dominates the scene, reminding us that here the gas is being excited by young, ferocious stars. At the edges, the blue of ionized oxygen marks even more energized, almost electric regions.

At 5,500 light-years away, this nebula is a cosmic workshop. Stellar wind sculpts, radiation carves, dust absorbs and re-emits light. And as we observe it, we understand that what we see happened when the pyramids were being built on Earth. Light travels; history does too.

M13 — The Hercules: A Sphere of Suspended Time

After the creative chaos of M17, M13 is a reminder of ancient stillness. “The image presents a magnificent globular star cluster, M13, shown as a dense, bright sphere of thousands of stars.”

Here there are no filaments or nebulae. Only stars. Thousands. In a gravitational embrace that has withstood billions of years.

The bluish and white hues reveal temperatures, ages, chemical histories. The core is so dense it almost appears as a single point of light. But it isn't: it's a multitude. A multitude that was born together, ages together, orbits together.

M13 is a time capsule. A fragment of the early universe suspended above the constellation Hercules. The light we receive came from there when dinosaurs still walked the Earth. Photographing it is, in a way, touching that past.

M16 — The Eagle Nebula: Architecture of Light and Shadow

M16 is a stage. A theater of gas, dust, and radiation. “The image presents us with a stunning view of a bright emission nebula, rich in detail and vibrant colors.”

The filaments resemble wings, curtains, fractals. The dark regions—those deep silhouettes—are dense clouds that block the light and shape the relief. The red of hydrogen, the cyan of oxygen, the yellow of dust: everything coexists in a choreography that only physics can explain, but which the eye interprets as art.

Here stars are born. Here the famous Pillars of Creation are sculpted. Here ultraviolet radiation doesn't just illuminate: it transforms. And while the light travels 6,500 years to reach us, we understand that we are seeing a frozen moment of a process that never stops.

M10 — An Ancient Heart in Serpens

The journey ends with M10, a warm, almost intimate globular cluster. “The image is a spectacular representation of a globular cluster, M10, which appears as a bright sphere densely populated with stars.”

Unlike M13, here yellow and orange tones predominate: red giants, aged stars, mature light. The core is so dense it seems to burn. The periphery gently dissolves, as if the cluster were breathing outwards.

M10 is ancient. Older than the Sun. Older than any human civilization. Its light emerged when the first empires arose in Mesopotamia. And yet, here it is, untouched, offering itself to our camera as if time hadn't touched it.

Each of these objects—a nebula creating stars, two clusters holding memories, a gas eagle soaring silently—reminds us of something essential