The moon, big and bright in a North East sky. Nearing 10:30 pm, I reset the alarm to 3:55 am. Tonight only, yes, the “early riser” tones from the alarm’s library. The coming eclipse peaks at 4:03, so eight minutes seemes like ample time to wake, get my mental bearings and find the moon before it goes black. The rain taps out Morse Code on the roof above, dot-dit-dit-da, but clear skies are in the forecast. And so we sleep. “Night Moon.”
Alarm tones. Up, and I find it! There! Window pane framed, a small bit of the moon. See it? A sliver, a slice? No! A teardrop of white light hanging there. As I watch, the earth’s long shadow wipes away that last drop of bright white.
Moonlight. Moonshine. Moonbeams. Mister Moonlight momentarily muted. Lights out. Darkness.
Upon reflection, where on earth would the moon be without the sun’s light? Yes, yes, I know, up there, but? And relatively speaking, a lunar eclipse is quite possibly more about the sun than the moon. And mind you, where would we be without this stars light? Would either of us be? The answer is quite clear. Light is life.
Proof? Daylight brings a honeydew’s sweetness. Sunny summers, then blossoms, then oranges, grapefruit, mandarins and more— all sun kissed. Apples too. Bananas too. Plums! Cherries! And grapes pleasantly persist, perfect persimmons insist, and you cannot resist the mangoes. None of this would exist, save for this sun. Oh yes, the list? It’s way too long. From here, to the moon! And back.
Looking forward to seeing you. Sunglassed?