This understated yet bold opening tells us from the very outset that the show will be about more than just those stars passing by. It will be a show about ideas. About our struggle to define ourselves within immensity. That the show will make us feel things, not just tell things, with the assistance of carefully selected visuals and music. It won't shy away from emotion and reverence and awe, a decision that sadly makes it unique among science shows to this day.

There is something else unique about this series, something I'd like to touch on before going into the details of this episode: why is this show called Cosmos? Why not, "the Universe" (or something similar)? The answer to this provides a key to understanding the entire series.

The etymology of the word gives it away, though Sagan helpfully spells it out for us midway through this first episode. Walking through the Library of Alexandria, he turns to us and explains that cosmos is "a greek word for the order of the universe. In a way it's the opposite of chaos. It implies a deep interconnectedness of all things. The intricate and subtle way in which the universe it put together." This is the reason this show is called "Cosmos" and not "Universe". Cosmos implies order, and order implies predictability, and predictability leads to understanding. Without predictability, science is not possible and chaos is all there is. The realization that the universe has patterns is the very basis of science, and this show isn't merely about what we see in the universe, but a celebration of the fact that we learned to see and comprehend it. That seemingly disparate things are interconnected, we just have to figure out in which way.

It's no accident that Sagan states the core idea of the series within the great library of Alexandria, where human beings first began to systematically collect knowledge in order to understand the world around them. That this effort – which ultimately developed into what we call science – is the only way we begin to comprehend the immensity of space and time in which we find ourselves. That the hidden order of nature provides a slim foothold with which we can appreciate our role within it.

As the first episode in the series, "The Shores of the Cosmic Ocean" had the burden of introducing itself and its narrator its audience, defining the tone and expectations for the coming series, and trying to teach you something about universe, the birth of science in human history, and our place in cosmic time. It mainly pulls this off, though I feel this episode is more scattered than others. Much of it serves to preview ideas to come, though it does do a good job of communicating its thematic core: the immensity, both in time and space, in which we find ourselves.

As the show opens, we see a lone figure standing near the cliffs of a rocky shore, beneath which roils a violent ocean. This wide establishing shot with a small figure dwarfed by his surroundings underlines our fragile, nearly insignificant existence within the great scope of nature. As we zoom in, we're quickly introduced to Sagan, who opens with possibly my favorite line in the series, telling us simply that "the cosmos is all that is, or ever was, or ever will be."

He quickly sets out the ground-rules of the show: a strict adherence to the facts, but with a willingness to speculate. This allows Sagan to serve more effectively as the viewer's representative in the series, simultaneously providing us with information but also acknowledging and validating our natural thought processes. It's normal to wonder about things, particularly when presented with new information. It humanizes our narrator to see that he shares our own desires to speculate about what might be given what little we know. It can be thrilling, stirring, even, and is one of the reasons the show was ultimately so successful.