The photo doesn’t do it justice, but I’ll post it anyway; because the Wolf Moon hung in the night sky, so close that I thought I could reach out and touch it. I tried, but it seemed that my expectations were a bit beyond my reach; so I just sat in its light on a brittle winter night and was drawn in by its beauty until the cold, alone, commanded my attention. I scurried in to warm myself by the fire and left the moon behind — or so I thought. What has become apparent in the last 24 hours is that although I failed to touch the moon, the moon did not fail to touch me.

I’ve always been a lover of moonlight, but in recent years, my relationship with that mirror in the sky has changed and grown until our friendship has become an intimate one. I suppose this is why I would be drawn outdoors in ten-degree weather with the hope of taking a picture and capturing the moment.  I understand now that there is a story to be told, and I will tell it to you soon.