An overnight in the desert southeast of Boise. I’m snuggled into my nest, engrossed in a book, relishing utter silence and solitude. I glance up from my book and nearly fall over in surprise. The moon was ready but I was not. I grabbed for my camera, which was buried under heaps of miscellany. Then I fumbled in the gathering darkness to maneuver the settings for a moon shot. It was futile. The moon was not waiting, and I was missing her grand entrance in my misguided frenzy. This became an opportunity to employ words rather than pictures, so I’ve given it a whirl.
The western horizon blushes behind a veil of whiskery clouds, its darkened counterpart to the east glowing in response. A crescent pushes up from the gentle swell of eastern sage hills, it rises slowly, infinitesimally, illuminating the length of the ridgeline like a gleaming, silver choker. The crescent transforms to a warmly glowing half circle; then a three-quarter circle; then, hovering as if afraid of cutting ties with the horizon beneath it, the giant orb emerges in all her luminescent glory. Slight abrasions to her surface reveal her depth, her character, her very moonness. The farther from the eastern horizon she travels, the brighter, the more pristine, the less earthy she glows. The shimmering globe continues her levitation, gaining power in her rise; she chases the last remnants of color from the west.
Rain dampened, leathery sage leaves release restorative oils and perfume the crisp night air with an intoxicating fragrance that mingles with dampened dust.
A scattering of brave stars dots the deep, dark bowl of the sky, while the horizon glows 360 with the grace of moon on one side and the memory of sun on the other.
Rising ever so slowly, but in an arrow-straight trajectory, the moon, even as her circumference shrinks and her abrasions fade in the increasing brightness of her being, will soon overwhelm all but a handful of stubborn stars and planets floating above. She appears smaller at her zenith, oh so very far away; and yet, as her size diminishes her luminescence and energy increases, lighting the sage hills and gorges beneath, beckoning autumn bacchanal.
She continues her inexorable chase of cousin sun, up, and over, and down, growing again and tarnishing to a warm glow as she approaches the western horizon. Cousin sun, now nearing the eastern horizon, his warming presence not yet visible, but illuminating the cloud wisps hanging over the hills, he casts his spotlight once again on cousin moon’s abraded face. And night cedes once again to dawn.
slpsharon said:
The photos are lovely. Been cloudy too often to see the moon lately. Also got some rain at last.
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rangewriter said:
Thanks. I still kick myself for not having prepared my camera and myself for the great rising, that night. I’m telling you, as that crescent peeked over the edge of the horizon, it looked like a looming giant!
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greenlibertarian said:
I’ve never been able to “capture” the moon with my ignorant, point and shoot cellcam photography, but recently got a new cell phone with a 13 Mpixel camera and was able to capture this recent full moon, albeit barely. Your shots are gorgeous.
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rangewriter said:
Thanks for the kind words! I’ve never even tried to capture the moon with a cell phone. I can’t imagine. However, it’s funny, I just tried to get my hands on the new iPhone 7+ for the simple fact of it’s dual lens camera. I was hoping to have it for an upcoming trip so I wouldn’t have to lug my DSLR. Unbelievably, Apple was sold out till after middle of October. So I’ll be stuck with my old, rickety phone, with lousy zoom capability. Sigh. How spoiled we become.
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greenlibertarian said:
Oh, and very enjoyable prose as well.
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quiall said:
Breath taking! You did it justice.
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rangewriter said:
Thanks. I just wish I’d been prepared for the great rising. It was spectacular that night.
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sybil said:
I think I’d like the scent of “leathery sage”. Wow beautiful images and words.
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rangewriter said:
Have you never smelled sagebrush, Sybil? That is a concept that never occurred to me, since sage in this part of the world is so ubiquitous. I’m sure you would love it. I always enjoy hearing from you and appreciate your comments.
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John said:
Can I “like” this more than once?
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rangewriter said:
I would love that! Thank you, thank you.
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Keith said:
Shine on, shine on harvest moon, up in the sky…..
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Bryan Hemming said:
I think your prose does as good as one of your excellent photos. If not better.
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rangewriter said:
You just made my heart sing, Bryan.
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Robert Matthew Goldstein said:
utterly beautiful!
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rangewriter said:
Very kind of you Robert, Thank you.
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Nandini said:
This is very beautiful! Loved the photos as well. 🙂
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rangewriter said:
Thanks, Nandini. The prose style was sort of a stretch for me and I wondered if it was too over the top. I appreciate your feedback. Wish I hadn’t missed the moonrise. It was so awesome!
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Susan said:
A beautiful image but I must say, your words steal the show! Pure poetry!
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rangewriter said:
Oh thank you so much, Susan. I am honored.
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samba2017 said:
Harvest Moon…always makes me think of the Neil Young song. Thanks for sharing. I have a poetry blog here on WordPress and today’s poem is about the moon in case you have time to look? Lunar greetings! Sam 🙂
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rangewriter said:
Hi Sam, nice to meet you! Neil Young, well, yes, he says it all a lot better than I do! Have a lunar evening!
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