Waxing Crescent – two days on; Photo: L. Weikel

Another Moon Shot

I wish I could figure out how to take great photos of the moon (with my phone) once the sky has darkened to the tones and shades that waver between deepest navy and just-shy-of-black. While I’ve managed to capture the waxing crescent moon over the past few days while the sky sported a Mars-like hue, I’ve met with decidedly less success once all vestiges of sunlight disappeared. And so it is, I’m sharing yet another moon shot or two with you.

I took the photo above with the simple desire to show how much the crescent had grown in just two days. Of course, this growth is inexorable. It happens every day, every week, every month without fail. Why I’m so taken with its observation at the moment escapes me.

Maybe it’s because I am feeling caught between the tug of realizing just how profound the change has been to so much of our lives in the past year, while also feeling stuck in limbo or a never-ending Mobius strip of repeating insanity. (OK, maybe that’s a little dark and dire. But some days I do ‘go there.’)

My point is that I’ve been reveling in the moon’s reflection of the constancy of change.

Woefully inadequate attempt – Photo: L. Weikel

Different Moods

I love the photos of the moon that manage to be in focus, capturing her beauty as she starts to ‘show.’ But then, every time I catch a glimpse of her after darkness has settled, my heart swells even more. I wish only to convey the awe that fills me when I witness Grandmother Moon’s sickle of golden light, supported by her companions of these last many months, Jupiter and Saturn.

And so I dance around, my feet clad only in socks, trying to cajole the phone’s camera to focus just right and reflect the beauty before my eyes. Brr. My reward is cold feet and frustration. But the sense of the night lives within me, even if I don’t quite know what to make of the utterly different mood that’s conveyed.

Unease

I’m not even sure what I’m writing about tonight. The moon, the vagaries of my iPhone’s camera, slow and almost imperceptible change, or a sense that nothing will ever be what it was again. Which of course it won’t be – but in a profound way; and sooner than we know.

Arcing Ripples of Beauty – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-373)