The last full moon was amazing. It was most spectacular around 5:30, as it was just beginning to rise above a sweep of dark trees.
A Maxfield Parrish moon if ever I saw one. Like one of the lanterns from his Lantern Bearers’ painting. Sensual apricot. I imagined it as a gift from an old fruit tree, dropping ripe into the sky.
Or a kid’s ball, faded by so much kicking against the neighbour’s wall, slowly rising to the net of stars in the sky.