I admit to being envious of all my friends who had clear skies and posted pictures of the blood red moon and the eclipse night before last. We had heavy clouds and snow. Last night we had the moon.
Oh it was wasn't blood red, and it was clear and bright and white. And large - so large as it hung low in the sky.
The forest is lovely under a full moon. It reminds me of Clement Moore's Christmas poem: the moon on the breast of the new fallen snow gave a luster of mid-day to objects below.
Shadows are stark and deep and just outside them the snow glistens. The world becomes a study in black and white. There is no other view like it. Snow hangs heavy on pine branches while deep within there is no green, only the black contrasting shadows cast by the moon.
Maybe I didn't get to see the eclipse or take a picture of a blood red moon, and I did get to see the miracle of a full moon on freshly fallen snow and in my soul, if not physically, danced in the Light.
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