We owe much to the moon, her silvery light illuminating gardens, flower blooms, and boughs of branches. In between these silvery pools of light, deep shadows push away the familiar, changing and transforming what is known. Details matter less. There is more space and very little sense of time under a full moon, only the liquid light and the patterns of shadows.

In so much moonlight, it is like being on another planet. As we watch her sinking westward, we slip back inside to our yellow-filled lights and rest our heads, our beds comfortable and familiar and yet, we have been saturated with the strange and the unknown. Our sleep becoming a mysterious re-dream.