I wish I had a camera – or knew how to use a camera – to take a picture of the moon.
I think of the moon as a friend. She is a companion in my evening walks, an encourager in my morning drives. I like to smile at the moon and imagine faraway loved ones smiling back.
I thought, as I watched this month the growing fullness of the moon, that I’d like to take a picture when she was round and silver in my sky. I can’t get the camera to see what I see, though. Maybe I’ll make notes about this moon, this November moon, in the year of our Lord 2013, and maybe I’ll be able to compare this moon with other moons to come.
This moon, tonight, is just past full. A tiny slice has been taken from the upper right curve of her fullness. I saw her first in open sky, but my most familiar view is from my back porch, through trees that have shed at this point a little over half their leaves. If I’d been able to take a picture, it would have shown black, mostly bare branches, and a few mixed deciduous leaves still deciding whether to stay or go. The moon’s face would have been white against a black, cloudless sky. I missed seeing the fullest moment because we had heavy rains last night. The evening air is cool and crisp like the moonlight, and the wet leaves covering the porch send shiny smiles back upward.
Hello, moon. Thanks for the smiles.