This might sound weird, but whenever I'm out in deep space, I remember this planet.

I've been to a lot of planets. But this one was different.

The sky was a light blue, and the sun shone with a rich golden color. The verdure crunched under your feet as you walked through a wide, open meadow. Violet, marigold and scarlet wildflowers twisted in the soft breeze. You could hear birds in the trees and insects singing to each other softly. A stream murmurs to you from the earth, bubbling up from a spring in the mountains, which rise sharply from the ground just a mile or two away.

There were no pods, or stargates, or any of that. Compared to now it was the Stone Age. You couldn't hear the roar of your fusion reactor. There was no rush of missiles or the crash of blaster rounds on your shield. It was just peaceful.

This may not sound remarkable to you. There are billions of planets like that, certainly thousands in the cluster.

But whenever I think of this place, there's one more thing I remember about it.

It was our planet.

And it was the only planet we had.