OtherThanThat

Wednesday night’s moon was spectacular.
Perhaps not quite as remarkable as the full moon that rose earlier this week, but pretty damn breathtaking. After the thick and stormy skies parted there he was – the perpetually surprised Man in the Moon glancing down sideways from his waning recline … as if from under an oversized hoodie.
Funny.
I don’t know that I ever thought about this before, but why is it that the “person” in the Moon is a man, when as far as I know the moon is traditionally a symbol of female power and energy.
Hmmm. Interesting thought, but for the purpose of this post not relevant, so moving on …
I’m blessed with a pretty spectacular view from my apartment. So on nights like this, when the entire cityscape takes on the luminous cast of silver, I make a point of turning out all the lights, cozying my favorite chair right … up … to the eastern facing window, and basking in that glow.
I’ve been in this apartment for a long time and experienced quite a few of these mooncast scenes, but tonight it was different. Perhaps I never experienced such bright moonlight so close to a rain; and so never caught the reflection from the scattered collection of rainwater pools.
In a flash, that wide path of moonlight stretching across the rooftops below, became a glistening silver band across the dark Atlantic. The deep whoosh of cars, their rushing pattern set by the streetlights, began to echo with the rumbling hiss of waves crashing onto the shoreline just below the Boardwalk where I stood with my father.
I was about 10 years old. We had just come back from a long dinner at our favorite Atlantic City (NJ) restaurants, Doc’s Oyster House. Often after a big meal, the family would go for a long walk on the Boardwalk. Sometimes we’d walk where the “action” was – the casinos, amusement piers, that sort of thing. Best part of that was that invariably it also meant a trip to Dairy Queen or, even better for some water ice.
But other times we’d head back towards our house, and “walk the Boards” there, which essentially meant a quiet, salt-air-scented stroll with nothing more than the occasional pool of streetlights and whatever moonlight you might get. As much as I love ice cream, this was always my preferred path.
And on night’s like tonight, the view was breathtaking. And on a night like tonight we wouldn’t have been out there alone. The Boardwalk would have been jammed with people – whether weekday or weeknight – reveling in the fresh air and the view.
When that ridiculously fat, full moon broke above the horizon this week, glowing so enormous and pregnant in the sky it almost seemed perched on the top of the Transamerica Pyramid – not a soul was looking up. In fact, since I was driving, I put the top down on the car, and at every red light I very obviously stared up several times just to see if anyone else would.
No one did.
As I was driving and unable to text, I made a frantic series of (hands-free, of course) phone calls to some friends – two of whom texted back soon thereafter with thanks for having pointed their glance upward.
It’s a good thing to remember.
Just because you’re focused diligently on your future, and just because you have to pay attention to what’s in front of you, don’t forget to look up.
Never know what you might see.