I was driving to Killingworth to the Cluster Council meeting after 6 o'clock and the moon was amazing.
It was huge and yellow and wrapped in clouds.
Someone at the meeting told me it was a 'snow moon'--a phrase I don't think I've heard before.
I was just outside--after 10 p.m. and it isn't yellow any more or nearly as big.
The road I was on--Route 68--goes up and down hills toward Durham. At the top of every rise, there it was, taking up much sky, right in front of me.
I was telling someone about it--or thought I was--until she said, "I usually think of them in mating season."
I was talking about the moon at the top of every hill and she thought I was talking about deer in the road.
Conversations, I've noticed, often take a turn like that--both people thinking they know what the other is talking about but not really.....
Ah, but that moon about 6:30! Amazing.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
-
▼
2019
(312)
-
▼
February
(32)
- Another view
- The scariest thing
- Deep breath
- call tonight
- few dry eyes
- tomorrow's sermon
- Good night, my friends
- The Bananaman
- The view from above the Close
- Snow Moon
- Every day
- Sister wives
- feeling my age
- Bishop weary
- More pondering
- Declare it!
- Something is seriously out of whack
- Bless George Conway
- Sugar Ice
- Profession
- my girls
- double standard re: race
- Pondering
- words matter and mean something
- R.I.P.--Albert Finney and our youth....
- Reading report
- OK, I did watch it
- The State of the Union
- Mejol
- It's still Morgantown
- shaking my head
- life after funerals
-
▼
February
(32)
About Me
- Under The Castor Oil Tree
- some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment