Moony

Near full moon tonight.

It found the sky's sole cradle of clouds and I could see its topology so clearly. Mt. Marilyn, Blotchy Valley, the Sea of Annoyance. The moon-struck and film goer knows that only one of those names is real. I think. Few of us can articulate that geography. I might have a difficult time identifying all the countries on the Mediterranean but I still dream about their bright waters.

After all these years of gazing, I'm still a slack-jawed cave boy when I see the moon ablaze like tonight. Not long ago, there was only sun, fire, moonlight and the random firefly for illumination. Okay, lava. I forgot lava. Sparks too. But both of those (and fire) must have been experienced with some ambivalence as well as wonder.

Missing tonight for Perfect was a shining rain of fireflies. The moon was silver lovely and I am greedy asking for an encore. But my one great gasp leads me to believe that there might be more beauty, see, just over the rise there.