I See the Moon

I see the moon, the moon sees me,
down through the leaves of an old oak tree.
Please let the light that shines on me,
shine on the one I love.

One of my favorite bedtime songs growing up, and one I sang to my daughters when they were little. After we moved to California, however, I had to change the words to "down through the leaves of a tall palm tree," as there were very few oak trees in California, at least where we lived, which was less than half a mile from the ocean, and right across the street from an inlet of water with plenty of palm trees on our street, and our property. The song returns to me on occasion, and did tonight.

As I drove home from One Chapel College graduation in Austin, I saw the incredible amber sliver of a moon in the western sky. Closer to the hill country where I live, the lack of bright lights of the city made it appear that I was moving closer to the moon, and I was watching for a place to pull over on a hill top and take a photo.

I reached the perfect spot, the pinnacle of the first valley past Bee Cave, and I slid over to the side of the road and put on my flashers. Although I had been watching the moon as I drove along, I did notice that occasional smatterings of clouds would pass over the crescent. I put the car into park, and looked and I looked, no moon. Could it be that it was blocked somehow by a tree I couldn't see in the dark? I inched forward, hoping that it was just the light of a passing car that made the thin slice invisible. "No ..." I thought. I love the moon, and to take pictures of it, day and night.

I slunk down in my seat, disappointed, but still hopeful. Waiting, waiting ... no moon. I put the car back into Drive and slowly descended the hill, with my eyes on the sky but barely watching the road, and certainly not up to par on the speed limit. The entire way home, and even as I turned right onto Pace Bend Road, I watched my rear view a few times to make sure I didn't miss it, but the clouds had covered it up.

I see the moon, I don't see the moon.
But somebody does.
Someone can see the beauty of tiny piece of the lovely orbiting sphere that is the moon, it's awesome amber image that sees the person admiring it, through a tree, or not. :-)
It gave me peace to think that someone, somewhere else, far away from Hurricane Harvey, could see the moon.