The Pull of the Great Reflector

We laugh as we wolf-howl at the Super Moon, the Hunter’s Moon

hovering over the dark night in the west, just as dawn begins her

approach in the east. Low in the sky, immense, delicately veiled by a

thin layer of Patricia’s clouds. We howl again in fun, but stop to

marvel while the moon radiates sunlight downward as a shimmering

partial pie wedge, sparkling over dark, soft clouds rising up to

cover the great reflector. Within a short period of five minutes, as we

drive north, the pie wedge shrinks up, up, and then thin, dark lines of

encroaching clouds cross over the vast silvery disk, imitating Saturn.

Silently, gradually, just before the five minutes slip away, the silvery

glowing disk shrinks into a pastel patch of pink fuzzy light, the

size of a heavenly postage stamp, then poof…it is gone behind our future.

 

(Later, as I sat in the doctor’s office, waiting for the Husband’s checkup, I was forced to listen to the news, and learned that this particular Super Moon caused one of the largest high tides in the history of the east coast. Charleston, South Carolina is flooded again, along with other areas on the coast, down through Florida, because of the Hunter’s Moon-tide, along with complications from Patricia, a hurricane twice as enormous as her older sister Katrina)

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