I was thrilled when I realised I would be in the Wheatbelt in Western Australia during the Super Moon. The sky is big and often clear around this region. Driving towards my destination, at dusk, I pulled over in a picnic area to take a picture of the moon over a paddock, only to find an elderly couple in a caravan were there first. They were camped sipping tea, camera on tripod, waiting to be enchanted.
At night, I drove around looking for the best place to photograph the moon. A risky thing to do as there is no street lighting on country roads. Just the flash of eyes from kangaroo or fox or the blinding lights of a road train.
In a clear sky, the moon was a moon. I hadn’t factored in the beautiful moon needed more. It needed something else to add perspective. My attempts were futile. Now past ten pm, it was time to go back to my hotel.
I woke before dawn the next day and went looking again. This time there were some clouds floating by. The moon was lower on the Western horizon, big and luminous. It was the delight I was searching for the previous night.
The moon is often associated with fertility, life. And her ocean lullaby of gently rocking tides from shore to shore, makes her Mother of all life on Earth.
Undaunted by a fierce sun, she is ever present in the sky. She is a celestial watchful eye.
The moon is a reassurance, a silent promise, there will be another day.
I believe this.
Until next time
a dawn bird