There it was; (still is as I write this); resting momentarily on the back of a distant field as it made its slow, shimmering ascent into the blueblack night. It had to be seen close up, well as close as it could be given where it is. So... a scarf, a coat and gloves later, I walked out into the frost gathering night and down the lane to the gap in the hedge, arched with overhanging trees. As I climbed the hill to the screech of the owls, out into the open sky, a silver light came on and the world was all shadows and the silhouetted gnarling of branches. Then turning, I stood and 'wondered' at the sight of it; its heavy shape floating in a sea of nothingness, perfectly round, the smile of its contours grey against it.
As I closed the garden gate I looked across at grey smoke leaving the warmth of the log fires from the tops of the 'stacks as the cold night air caught it, bent it slightly and wafted it away.
Here was a perfect moment; here was wealth without price and all I had to do was make time for the moon.
Next time; episode two of, 'The Girl in the Red Jumper'
As the dulcet tones of Roy Ebden would utter at the end of his radio show..."If you have been, thanks for listening"
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