Chasing the Moon

I’m writing this down so I can better remember it later. By the time my mom and I finished shopping early Friday evening, the sun had set and we had to hustle to our car.  The cold was coming in. No more than 10 minutes into our drive, the bright lights of the shopping plaza began to fade away, and gave way to the dark and winding country roads that criss cross through my mom’s town. That’s when we saw it, a gigantic yellow-white circle hanging above a field in the black sky. It was glowing and beckoning us to come closer.

The moon was enormous that night. I wanted to hug it. And even though these things are never as good as they are in person, we decided we needed a photo. Something to prove to others that we weren’t crazy and in fact, maybe they were crazy for not joining us.

Image c/o Seven Storm Photography

So my mom and I began chasing down the moon. And in doing so we became the characters in the children’s books my mom used to read to me and my brother. A daughter who gets lost looking for the moon and the mom who helps her realize she doesn’t have to find it, because it was there all along. I don’t know, I don’t write children’s books, but you understand. We are grown people, but for a moment we were kidnapped by wonder – we could dig to China, find the end of the rainbow, walk up to the moon and ask it how it’s been.

The first time we saw it in the field, it was the biggest and roundest it ever was, but there was nowhere for us to pull over. So we kept driving down my mom’s road, past her house and to the bend in the road, but by then the moon had gotten smaller. We are not science people. We weren’t entirely sure why it kept disappearing. So we turned around and tried to retrace our steps. Finally we reached a farmhouse next to a clearing and we quickly pulled into their dirt driveway. I jumped out of the car and took a few photos with my phone. Back in the car, I looked over the photos. You couldn’t see anything but a white spot the size of my thumbnail. I knew from the beginning that this was not the point, but it was what got us there.

I’m writing this down now because I want to solidify the memory. And years from now, if I still have those blurry moon photos, I may not remember the significance. But this is the story and I don’t want to forget it.

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