Imagine you're outside on a starlit night with a friend. You hand them a penny and ask them to walk 20 metres away, stop and hold the coin up against the sky. The coin, if you could see it at all, would barely register as a pinprick in the total night sky, but supposing that you were able to magnify that miniscule little dot of sky. What would you see?
The Hubble telescope has done exactly that and the result is awesome:
Within that tiny little spec of darkness, there are hundreds of galaxies. Not stars but galaxies! It makes me feel very small and puts all of our human vanities into perspective. I know that it sounds ridiculous but I often feel depressed by the fact that all of our achievements will ultimately disappear in a puff of cosmic smoke. No more Beethoven, Picasso, Venice, Dickens, Leonardo Da Vinci or Plato. The universe will continue without us.
How stupid of me to worry about events that may or may not take place in a few billion years time, but I can't stop it. Is it a mild form of apeirophobia - the fear of infinity?