It is an eerie feeling sitting here under the stars, listening to those distant lands. It doesn't take much imagination to think that we are tuning in to the patter of interstellar commerce. Vega IV's transmission on quantum philosophy. The plaintive, automatic transmission from some civilization in M82, long since vanished. No one has ever been able to find the key to deciphering their message.
Legend has it that they watched the birth of our sun.
Although their message was translated long ago, no one has been able to understand what they are saying - our civilizations, after all these millenia, have no common points of reference. Of course all of this is just my imagination getting the better of me. Soon, our exploration of the radio universe comes to an end, and having exhausted the novelty of the night sky, we pack up our equipment and hit the sack. The next morning, we awake to find the valley covered by an undulating blanket of grey fog. It's a quiet trip back to Oakland, not because of exhaustion, but rather because we leave behind the delightful vista of an unobscurred universe, replacing it with a cluttered view of the cityscape.