“It’s not what you look at that matters, but what you see.” Thoreau
My family, along with five friends, sat under the light of the moon last night to watch it turn from a light so bright it dazzled the eyes, into an orange-red shadow.
We had a fire and chairs pulled up all around it. One of the boys roasted a potato in the coals around the fire. I roasted a hot dog. We all had apple cider.
My little ones wriggled and adjusted themselves over and over next to me, sometimes exchanging “words” for “taking my spot!”
The first thing sleepy eyed daughter said to me this morning was “How was the moon?” because she had to go to bed at 9:30.
Toward the end of the night, the endless noise of talking, laughing, and music stopped, and we could hear coyotes and other sounds of the woods and the night, our faces upraised to the clear sky, eyes open wide, trying to take it all in.
As the moon became darker, the stars seemed brighter. The sky was gloriously full of them.
We thought about the people of the past, ancient Bible men and women, populations from other countries, our own Native Americans, even the heavenly beings, and the wonder of the connection we felt to them all as we sat under the very same moon they also observed and knew so well.
We praised the God who made it.