“Do you ever walk through the village at night?” C’s question surprised me, I had to think. “No, no, I don’t really…” “Oh, it’s wonderful,” she responded with that soft Southern accent belying her to be “the Other American” (in truth, she is L’Americaine and I am the other but no matter) here. “I do it all the time, it is so quiet.”
She went on to tell me of how she loves to take visiting English immersion exchange students on evening strolls, including a young girl from Monaco who delighted in the ability to do cartwheels through the empty streets…such freedom to be seen unseen.
C and I had been chatting about the upcoming arrival of the Supermoon, the Blood Moon, so rare.
She imparted that she had been charting its progress this month along with her two children, who were coloring its stages nightly for class and told me the best place to see it at the top of the village. I wondered why I had never had such cool and engaging projects in the Midwestern schools I attended as a kid.
Just after 7:30pm, the time that Mr. Moon was supposed to be on the up and up, I was sipping a glass of wine and listening to Miles Davis. I was feeling mighty comfy in that Sunday evening cook a chicken way. But the image of that whirling girl enticed me enough to walk up the two flights to grab my camera and attach its 300 mm lens. All right then, go see, go see…
I climbed the hill and breathed out a “Oh there you are” at the glowing bone ball. I was standing on what had been the cemetery, long ago. The description seemed appropriate and yet C had been right, I felt no fear. Only that quiet that she had mentioned, sinking in, calming my breath and steadying my often shaky hands as I lifted the heavy apparatus time and time again. I shifted the manual settings with squinting eyes as the dark settled in. “If only Remi were here,” I thought nearly automatically, “he would know what to do.” How many times I have literally seen him run to be in the right place at the right time to catch the light, such a precise hunter. Well, instead, I just ambled after the moon – I played, I was a little artsy, at other moments I felt like a grand reporteur on a mission, I leaned into the fuzz of the sunset – and all the while the moon just rose and rose, shifting shades and cutting clouds. I stayed until I was content and paused before swinging the camera over my shoulder and trotting down the hill to whisper “thank you” – to C, to the daring girl, and to the beauty of la lune. Such a mystery still and how I love it that way.
to listen to:
Have a wonderful beginning to your week everyone…
Heather you have inspired me to get out for an evening walk, when it the temps have cooled down and I can be in peace and have a quiet mind. Beautiful images!!
xoxo
Karena
The Arts by Karena
Oh what a fabulous story. I can't believe the village is so quiet at night! You got a much, much better view than we had here. Boring schools and cloudy skies here in the "Midwest" though I like to think of Ohio as New England's trashy cousin instead of Nebraska's distant sister.
But luckily yesterday morning I woke up early and headed out to get my coffee in the dark. I was looking for the moon but still couldn't see it. Then heading home, I saw it low and massive. Framed by trees in the middle of the road at the crest of a hill. It was so glorious it took my breath away. A very acceptable apology for being a no-show the night before.
Isn't it wonderful that we all – worldwide across the blogosphere — can still be fascinated by the moon?
Oh Goodness. Our world. Did you happen to read the article in the NY Times: Stop Googling, Let's Talk. Amazing!!!
Even though it looks pretty orangey in the photos it was more of a gold and it faded pretty quickly to a big old normal looking full moon!
Oh, I hear ya! There are still a few very old graves on the hill that I was on too! eeee…
And I had no idea what I was doing – ok, a little but not enough. Remi would have scoffed as I didn't even have a tripod, Me! Madame Shakyhands! But I finally figured out that the aperture had to be far more closed than I am used to. I no longer have automatic settings since my sweet little Canon died (luckily Remi is loaning me one of his SLRs) but aren't they great? So happy that you found it out!
Loree, you are such a good writer…"I especially love it in summer when it casts its cool light onto the hot land." Come on that is just gorgeous…
I was glad that I went, Edgar. More for the peace than the photos.
Kind of Blue is the "when in doubt" album at our house and always will be. 🙂
Thank you so much for your happy response. I just loved it. And you are right, I should go out to take photos after hours here…I tried that once a long time ago and it is SO quiet here that the click of my camera brought someone out of their house, afraid I was a burgular!