This stunning set of photos from The Guardian in honour of the final flight of the space shuttle have left me feeling oddly sad. I can't say the missions have had a huge impact on me, but they have definitely always been more than a background noise (thanks to a rather geeky father). I do remember visiting Kennedy Space Centre as a child, very vividly. From the wheeled platform used in transporting the shuttles, to the building in which the shuttle was stored - adorned with the US flag, on which each star spans six feet - the sheer size of it all was just breathtaking. As for the shuttle itself, it amazed me that something so vast could be made up of so many parts, each as vitally important as the next. That something as relatively small as a circle of rubber could cause the disintegration of one of these huge metal beasts just seems ludicrous. So Atlantis landed for the last time this morning, accompanied by some lovely words from mission control in tribute to the iconic shuttles, which only added to my reminiscence. I am not sure, however, that any such speech will be of comfort to the reported 10,000 staff losing their jobs with this final flight marking the end of America's space programme.
...and is it wrong that the fact that the International Space Station will now be tended to by only Russian craft feels like a Bond film?
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