We got home after dusk tonight and there is already a real feeling of nights drawing in, the first leaves turning, a restless questing wind chasing the last light.
Driving home a glimmering of Moonrise crept up over the hedgerows and the children laughed to see it following the car as if we were towing a big glowing balloon! But when I opened our (very overgrown) front door to check the post, I found the Moon had followed us home and come to call, waiting like an invited guest directly in the frame of the porch...
I still haven't got round to reading the instruction manual for my hybrid camera, but I thought I'd try with a very wobbly tripod and some random chance to catch the Moon...
I've often watched the Moon rising behind these trees, always fascinated by the speed as it passes behind them and on up into unfettered sky, moving even as you watch.
Though the Moon and I have not always been on best of terms, its always a spellbinding thing when it rides behind the clouds or dimishes to a pale wistful thread. I remember once seeing it rise with an aurora of Earthshine, very strange.
This is as far as my camera will zoom in with its current lens, maybe not the clearest of images, but in the same shot below I edited down the brightness to see the wonderful pock marks and craters more clearly... I'm quite fascinated with that bright pinprick of light on the shadowy left edge...
I'll leave you with a rather ropey poem of mine written last year looking at these same trees from my window...
Evening wakens a gilded-mist moonrise.
Not the bright hard light of yestereve
when the Moon rose in bone-light, cold as a river stone
to glitter blackly on still Holly leaves...
No, the Moon is less strident tonight,
drifting beyond the trees grasp,
dancing in a golden mist,
like a flowing scarf gossamer fine,
stepping now in front,
full laden and bright,
the Sky's shawl of softness gentling her gaze.