When I was a little girl, one October evening, squeezed between my mom and my grandma in the front seat of a car, I watched a gargantuan golden orb rise over the skyline. I don't think the moon could have possible have been as large as I remember it.
Flying into New Orleans above a cloud cover, I saw a full moon reflected on the clouds, creating a light show that rivaled the twinkling city lights of the Big Easy as we descended.
Driving to Louisville one evening, I watched the moon and the clouds play a celestial game of musical chairs, creating the most awesome study of light and shadow. I video taped some footage. (That, unfortunately, was accidentally erased.) From KC to Louisville is about a 7.5 hour drive -- sometimes boring -- but that night the time zoomed past.
One winter evening, a full moon shone upon the frozen water of Blue Springs Lake, casting everything in silver. A man-made lake, the east portion of it has dead trees rising above the water, which cast eerie shadows upon the silvery frost.
Nestled just so along the tree line, a new moon was barely visible in the darkening dusk, but at its bottom was the slenderest sliver of orange.