I woke early this morning delighting in the fact that there were no clouds about. Moonlight had flooded our bedroom, making the night seem day.
Artificial light entering our bedroom is one thing – and to be avoided at all costs.
But moonlight is another thing altogether. I find it slightly magical and ever so mystical and it’s one of the reasons I’ve never hung curtains in our bedroom. (It also helps that we don’t have neighbours over our back fence.)
I love it when the bedroom is filled with moonlight 🌕
Now perhaps you might be thinking, as in folklore and tales of old, that sleeping in the light of the Moon could have a harmful influence on me. Perhaps it might transform me into a werewolf – or that moonlight could worsen the (highly evident) symptoms of (this) lunatic.
But fear not.
Although I openly profess, and enjoy, being a lunatic (or Selenophile), I am no werewolf. (Ha, ha, Dean might argue otherwise, especially when he makes too much noise before I’ve finished my morning coffee.)
As a selenophile though, I love the light of the Moon just as much as the Moon itself. It’s delightful and fleeting, almost ephemeral, because for only a few nights each month can I take pleasure in our bedroom being filled with the Moon’s radiance.
This morning, that glorious light woke me and what else was I to do, but tiptoe out of the room, quietly close the door behind me and grab my camera?
I tend to get a little sad and feel dejected (even a little depressed) when there’s a lunar event I’m unable to view.
Sometimes the reason is that said event might be only visible on the other side of the planet. Other times it’s because I’ve been busy and have not paid attention to the celestial goings-on. And then there are other occasions when Mother Nature intervenes with clouds blocking my view.
Such was the case a couple of days ago when the (full) Moon was at perigee – the point of orbit that brings it closest to the Earth. Better known as a ‘Super Moon’ because, at this close point of its orbit, the Moon appears larger and brighter in the night sky.
It’s always wonderful to see the full Moon putting on such a show.
But there was also another event that intervened and prevented me from seeing the super Pink Moon* this week. Easter.
I can’t explain it, but trust me, if it’s Easter then there is a higher than average chance it’s going to rain, and rain it has, although I knew sooner or later the clouds would clear and once again I’d be able to gaze upon that gorgeous heavenly body.
I care little for the fact that this morning I photographed a waning gibbous Moon with only 84% Illumination.
That’s right, I don’t care.
I don’t care at all, because, to me, no matter the phase, the Moon is always super.
* According to The Old Farmer’s Almanac, April’s full Moon often corresponded with the early springtime blooms of a certain wildflower native to eastern North America: Phlox subulata – commonly called creeping phlox or moss phlox – which also went by the name “moss pink.”