Bella Luna

The moon is full tonight, did you see it? I stepped outside, away from the house and the glow of light from within, to stand in the dark with face upturned. I do this a lot. I'm fascinated by the night sky, the vastness, the stars and, particularly, moonlight. Cool and bright, illuminating objects but not colors. This moon is the Harvest Moon, the moon closest to the atumnal equinox.

I remember a moonlit night on Lake Superior when I was younger. The water was flat calm, the lake quiet and still, bathed in light. A few of us rowed out to a small shipwreck that lay in about 20 feet of water- we could see every detail of it lying below the glass-like surface. It was amazing, I'll never forget it.

Another bright night a couple years later, I stood outside with my dogs (I had two at the time, it was near the beginning of the 16 years I had with them). I assumed the position- head back, eyes skyward, gazing at the moon and then the surrounding hills, occasionally glancing back toward the warmly lit house where my young daughter slept, unaware of my absence. The dogs sat motionless on either side of me, noses sniffing the air. A small moment I carry with me, and can recall vividly, right down to the crispness of the night air.

I imprinted another of those moments tonight, out in the yard with my dog, Ginger, the light pouring over my upturned face as she waited quietly beside me. I realized I was standing less than a mile from where I stood with my dogs nearly 20 years ago. Perhaps in another 20 I'll recall this moment as vividly.

I used to say part of a rhyme to my kids whenever the moon was full: I see the moon and the moon sees me.