DK with Blue Moon shot @ 8:59 pm. 74° F. August 30, 2023. Darien, CT. More on Blue Moon @ Space.com.
Tag: Moon
more black than black
Between the pick-up spot and the parking spot, the sun abandoned everything for one more day, the sea blackened, and the islands blackened even darker, more black than black, and the sky looked shocked and empty, as if not fully trusting that the moon would rise soon and her cohorts of stars crowd in like figures at a hajj.
— Sebastian Barry, Old God’s Time (Viking, March 21, 2023)
DK Photo: Moon. 12:01 am. 79° F, feels like 84° F. Saturday, July 29, 2023. Darien, CT.
Saturday Morning
Photos from this morning’s walk @ Cove Island Park. Moon over Cove Island Park photos here. And daybreak sunrise photos here.
Lightly Child, Lightly.
You know how every once in a while you do something and the little voice inside says, “There. That’s it. That’s why you’re here.” …and you get a warm glow in your heart because you know it’s true? Do more of that.
– Jacob Nordby, author of The Creative Cure: How Finding and Freeing Your Inner Artist Can Heal Your Life (Hierophant Publishing, February 16, 2021)
Note:
- Photo: DK @ Daybreak. Come fly with me. 6:41am, 46° F. February 16, 2023. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT. More pictures from this morning’s walk here.
- Quote: Thank you Make Believe Boutique
- Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”
God Found in Ōita!
2:30 a.m. Here we go again.
I’m up. Three days, back to back to back, at this God-awful hour. Three days, standing in bare feet on cool grass, with my camera pointed up, trying to still my hands, trying to still my arms, just trying Still everything damn it, from the shakes — and then, if that’s not enough — my eyes are tracking the moon, aka a bright, yellow blob that is spastically jumping up and down in my viewfinder. So, now I have the shakes and vertigo. Has to be the lack of sleep. Has to be.
Rattled, I walk to the driveway, slowly, feeling my way through the dark, with jagged stones piercing the souls of my feet. Need to resurface this damn driveway.
I lay my arms on the roof of the car, and point upward. Why 2:30 a.m., and not 1:30, or 3:30, or even 5 am, like at least 10% of Humans? God, again, only knows, if there is a God. And I’m thinking maybe there is a God, because Someone wants me up to see Something at this hour.
I look back into the viewfinder. Sh*t. This isn’t working.
I place the camera down on the roof of the car, and let my arms rest. Sky is clear. No risk of missing the shot with cloud cover. Take a minute, re-group and go at it again.
I look up and down the street. No one else is out in their Jockey sleep shorts, their short-sleeved, white V-Neck, lurking around in bare feet waiting for their hands to stop trembling like a frightened kitten.
I lift my palms and look. Everything appears to be normal, on the surface.
I take a moment to re-check camera settings. Then I move to the lens settings. And here I find that I somehow turned off the automatic image stabilizer. Ha! It’s not me. I just knew it couldn’t have been me.
I snug up tight to the car, the smooth steel, cool against my chest. With the ship now anchored, I lift the camera and point. And, there, there She is, in all of her Glory.
So there is a God.
Just has to be.
Sitting @ Canon in Ōita, Japan.
Photo – Waning Gibbous Moon (57%). 2:38 a.m. August 19, 2022. 63° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT. More photos from this morning here.