I don’t know whether your little e-device alerts you to the phases of the moon, but each year when I buy my spiral-bound paper-page version of a calendar, I immediately note the dates of the full moons. I think the full moon is such a wonderful event to share with friends, as you can easily find full moons by simply looking up and no special snack foods or costumes are required.
So, when this year’s October “hunter’s moon” or “harvest moon” was coming around, I thought a party would be in order. I gave William notice of Thursday night’s event. I told a couple others too and up we trooped to the spectacular vantage point of the bar of the Victoria Hotel on Fortin Hill at about 5,300 feet above sea level (1,600 m), a couple hundred feet above where I usually sit. The vigorous climb justifies the beer and peanuts with garlic and chilis at the top.
But I screwed up somewhere; luna llena was actually two nights off, Saturday. I confessed my error, though Thursday night was clear and we wondered at a a gorgeous imperceptibly not-quite-full moon.
Then Saturday night brought clouds and another heavy rain. No moon was visible. Looking up would have given only a faceful of water. My mistake was a beneficence.
At this full moon, I calculated how many have occurred in my lifetime, when I did notice and when I did not. So many. Next month, there will be another, I’ll have the date right; I’ll look up again in wonder.
*This photo is an aberration. Years ago I pledged never to take a picture of a full moon, a sunset or a butterfly, since I found myself dozing off looking at such in other people’s vacation slides.