i awake early. much, much too early. but brightness streams in the windows and spills onto the floor. i arise, look out, and gasp at the scene - a wonderland of ice encrusted trees all reaching for the source of the illumination. in nightclothes and boots i venture out to try to capture it. who can sleep on such a wondrous night?
13 December 2008
full cold moon
i awake early. much, much too early. but brightness streams in the windows and spills onto the floor. i arise, look out, and gasp at the scene - a wonderland of ice encrusted trees all reaching for the source of the illumination. in nightclothes and boots i venture out to try to capture it. who can sleep on such a wondrous night?
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The closer-than-ever, full, cold moon stopped me in my tracks on Saturday night as I drove, at a crawl, through the tree-lined back roads; heading into the deep woods to the other school.
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