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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