Yet the feelings of that long-ago spring afternoon remain fresh and astounding. The signals from my mind and heart-the most intimate message on the record-were translated into data and paired on the golden records with a strangely similar rasping, that of the most distant sound ever recorded back then: a pulsar. Just days after Carl and I realized we would spend the rest of our lives together, I meditated for an hour while blindfolded, hooked up to every human monitoring device then known. Voyager 2 Enters Interstellar Space: November 5, 2018 Voyager 1 Enters Interstellar Space: August 25, 2012

Power Source: 420-watt radioisotope thermal generator Launch Vehicle: Martin Marietta Titan IIIE We think that these rapidly rotating neutron stars-virtually inexhaustible natural beacons, each identifiable by their unique rate of spin-will point the way to our sun and its system of worlds. The scientific hieroglyphic on them that resembles a burst of fireworks is actually a map of the frequencies of the thirteen nearest pulsars. The golden discs affixed to both of you are rich in information, including our return address.

At the same moment that you left Earth to discover and explore other worlds and to blaze our trail to the stars, we were launched on our own life trajectory. We fell in love in 1977 while collaborating on the message that you carry. Carl Sagan and I had known each other as friends and colleagues for a couple of years. I was 27 years old when you were in the last stages of your assembly. My own life attained lift-off when you did. You, the farthest objects we have ever touched, now venture beyond that place where the sun’s wind gives way to roaring interstellar gales far, far away-and yet I feel close to you. This essay is an entry in our 'Dear Spacecraft' series, where we ask writers, scientists, and astronomy enthusiasts to share why they feel personally connected to robotic space explorers.

Carl sagan voyager 1