"Do you ever walk through the village at night?" C's question surprised me, I had to think. "No, no, I don't really..." "Oh, it's wonderful," she responded with that soft Southern accent belying her to be "the Other American" (in truth, she is L'Americaine and I am the other but no matter) here. "I do it all the time, it is so quiet."
She went on to tell me of how she loves to take visiting English immersion exchange students on evening strolls, including a young girl from Monaco who delighted in the ability to do cartwheels through the empty streets...such freedom to be seen unseen.
C and I had been chatting about the upcoming arrival of the Supermoon, the Blood Moon, so rare.
She imparted that she had been charting its progress this month along with her two children, who were coloring its stages nightly for class and told me the best place to see it at the top of the village. I wondered why I had never had such cool and engaging projects in the Midwestern schools I attended as a kid.
Just after 7:30pm, the time that Mr. Moon was supposed to be on the up and up, I was sipping a glass of wine and listening to Miles Davis. I was feeling mighty comfy in that Sunday evening cook a chicken way. But the image of that whirling girl enticed me enough to walk up the two flights to grab my camera and attach its 300 mm lens. All right then, go see, go see...
I climbed the hill and breathed out a "Oh there you are" at the glowing bone ball. I was standing on what had been the cemetery, long ago. The description seemed appropriate and yet C had been right, I felt no fear. Only that quiet that she had mentioned, sinking in, calming my breath and steadying my often shaky hands as I lifted the heavy apparatus time and time again. I shifted the manual settings with squinting eyes as the dark settled in. "If only Remi were here," I thought nearly automatically, "he would know what to do." How many times I have literally seen him run to be in the right place at the right time to catch the light, such a precise hunter. Well, instead, I just ambled after the moon - I played, I was a little artsy, at other moments I felt like a grand reporteur on a mission, I leaned into the fuzz of the sunset - and all the while the moon just rose and rose, shifting shades and cutting clouds. I stayed until I was content and paused before swinging the camera over my shoulder and trotting down the hill to whisper "thank you" - to C, to the daring girl, and to the beauty of la lune. Such a mystery still and how I love it that way.
to listen to:
Have a wonderful beginning to your week everyone...