My Moon Limpeth Over

Foot’s on the mend, but I was sorely reminded of my current limitations when I tried to climb the embankment to perch myself at the highest point for optimum full moon viewing. Not sure what was more troubling, the thousand and one needles injecting into the side of my foot-like pain accompanying each feeble attempt to inch higher up the hill, the wind chill I fully underestimated which was now making that much more remote the possibility of my steadying the camera for one, maybe two save worthy shots of the still out of view but rumored to be 14% enlarged full moon, the fact that the moon was still out of view (was I looking in the wrong direction?!?), or that I was the only suspicious, predator-resembling gimpy lech lurking motionless on the track in black sweatpants and pea coat while others were legitimately exercising. Surely someone was bound to recognize the bulge protruding beneath my clothing was a camera and that I was simply positioning and repositioning in anticipation of this once every 20 year event while shifting in place to ward off the frigid, bone-chilling wind–isn’t this supposed to be the first day of Spring? Boy are those buds and shoots sprouting all over the garden in for a wicked surprise. And the forecast’s calling for ice and snow later in the week…and we’re living here because?!?

Once the wife and kids arrived, sleeping bags in tow (smart thinking children!), with nearly 66% of my body well on its way toward hypothermic circulatory arrest, and a mounting fear that we’d miss the best, and largest, phase of the moonrise just over the eastern horizon, I thought it prudent to shift to higher ground. So, with the requisite opposite-of-a-modicum of hemming and hawing from the peanut gallery, I swiftly limped to the car, made sure wife and kid body parts were inside the vehicle, illegally u-turned across the double yellow line, and anxiously awaited the reassuring click of my son’s seat belt while recklessly careening along the windy back roads in a race against the ticking clock in my head reminding me prime viewing of the colossal moon hanging over the New York City skyline had already come and gone.

And then, lo!, there!, above the horizon, behold…

Moon over Manhattan

and…

Big Moon!

and…

Spring Moon
and my personal favorite…

Crystal Ball Moon

In 20 years, the next time there’s a supermoon, I’ll remember to bring a tripod and wear my thermal underwear.

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