At ten minutes before six this morning, I walked out the front door in nothing but my boxers, crossed the lawn, and stalked up my neighbors’ driveway. Then I was able to see the moon. The Earth’s shadow hid our milky whiteness, hers and mine. The eclipse had ink-washed the moon’s top three-quarters; the bottom still shone a bright salmon hue against the grey-brown of the morning sky.
Every time I view a lunar eclipse, I think of a story that a professor at U of L told me once. He was in France with a bunch of friends. After dinner, they were all outside as a lunar eclipse was occurring. He knew some French, but was not fluent. Looking up and noticing the moon, he blurted in French, “Look! The moon! …It isn’t there!”
I wanted to get up and see it, but the gravity in my bed this morning was extremly high. Last nights moon was one of the brightest I've noticed in awhile. Our bedroom was all aglow last night...or was it your milky whiteness?
ReplyDeleteJust call me Al...Al Baydo.
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