On Saturday night a friend and I were driving back from LA when we suddenly saw the biggest moon I remember seeing. Enormous and orange, my friend's first question was, "Are you sure it's the moon?" Yes, I'd recognize it anywhere.
On Sunday I read that it was a "Super Moon", meaning that it was as close to the earth as it ever gets. On Saturday night I didn't really think about distance. I was too busy being amazed. When I got home I told the boys about it. Even though they had seen it, none of them seemed particularly impressed. Well, Benjamin the ninja who lives here did mention that it was making scuba diving more challenging by messing with the tides.
In times of heartache I have taken great comfort in looking up at the night sky and knowing that I saw the same moon that my beloved, where ever he was roaming, could look up and see. Having a common focal point provided a sort of connection.
I have a cousin who was in the Peace Corps in Tanzania in the '80's. One evening she was sitting out, enjoying the moon with some of her neighbors from the village. As they sat talking drinking banana beer and talking, she mentioned that her country had sent a man to walk on the moon. There was a lull as everyone pondered this and finally someone asked, "These friends of yours... were they witches?"
They were absolutely witches (depending on your definition of "witch"). I say this because I believe in magic. Almost all of the kinds. Particularly the kinds I can't explain at all.
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