I want to talk about the moon.
It must be nearly full, for as the dogs and I walked around the track tonite, we cast dark moon shadows onto the ground.
But that’s not the moon I want to talk about. I want to talk about a thin, crescent moon that sat in the west a few weeks ago as I drove home from work.
From the overpass at the end of the drive, that crescent moon was hanging above the horizon with Venus perched below. The sky above was dark indigo; night was falling. The sky below was rose-red; day was fleeing. And there was the moon and Venus orchestrating it all.
So there you have it.