Dateline Aurora, Texas, 1897:

This was the year of the "great airship" reports in the United States. Many sightings were recorded, especially in the Southwest.

"About 6 o'clock this morning the early risers of Aurora were astonished at the sudden appearance of the airship which has been sailing around the country. It was traveling due north and much nearer the earth than before. Evidently some of the machinery was out of order, for it was making a speed of only ten or twelve miles an hour, and gradually settling toward the earth."

The space ship crashed into a windmill, bursting into pieces. As the debris was searched through, the body of a small alien was discovered. The alien pilot was dubbed the "Martian pilot."

It’s another love story about how opposites find each other
how a race of aliens had the spirit of adventure, scientific curiosity and technical advancement to journey across billions of light years & conquer time itself
only to crash and burn against the rustic charm of a windmill in a little Texas town in 1897 and commit the cosmic crime of ruining Judge Proctor’s garden
Don Quixote could have told them about windmills.

But you have to wonder if The Intergalactic Bureau of Planetary Sampling had evolved past any and all sense of irony, and what it would think
about the "Christian Burial" the townspeople gave the body which they said was " not of this world". They just wanted to put it all
behind them, threw the wreckage down a well, buried the body under a single stone, who can blame them

to be looking out the window at the weather and plants, the land and spaces you have struggled with and grown to love for 30 to 60 years, and to be jolted into an awareness that it could all be just a dance on the head of a pin or a blip on some time traveler’s radar

who needs it? To see the little lizard like fingers, the huge snake like eyes, to know it could all be one nature, one present time, one presence capable of producing innumerable separate but equal intelligences from amoeba to ant to alien

they remembered the Alamo, forgot those little creatures beyond good & evil, beyond anybody they could identify with, & therefore beyond rage, especially beyond the comfortable lostness of that little town in whose empty skies many time travelers to come would crash and burn, fall to earth, be buried and forgotten.