Blue Moon Friday . . .

The moon this morning was full and clean-looking.  It hung high in the sky, happy to be sharing space with all the big, bright stars that still sparkled even though night would soon fade into oblivion.  The sky itself was that amazing blue colour that defies description and has no name; it isn’t cobalt nor is it sky blue but rather some perfect point in between.

The sun was still hiding below the horizon, but giving warning that day was about to consume the mystery of the dark with its powerful rays.  The trees in the field were black stick silhouettes that always remind me of cartoon trees of our childhood and my imagination makes them twist and turn and put their branches on their trunks as they talk to each other.  Every once in awhile a bird bomb goes off as I pass one of the trees, telling me that their yearly southern migration has begun. (writer’s note — a bird bomb is the term I’ve coined to describe hundreds of birds flying all at once out of a tree because they’ve been startled by a noise such as me walking the dog).

I am told that the moon is a blue one on this last Friday of August and we will not see another for almost eighteen months.  I would truly love to see a blue moon, one the same colour as tempera paint, perhaps, just because God wanted to give us a rare treat.  He does that sometimes with rings around the sun but that is usually interpreted as some wicked sign of bad things to come, not taken to be amusing like the thought of a real blue moon would be.

I love the night sky.  I love being alone in the darkness of the early morning just before it dissolves into day and I cannot wait until it returns again to delight me with its promise of quiet peace.

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One Response to “Blue Moon Friday . . .”

  1. Yes, it is a magical time right between the past and the future.

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