Moonrise, Moonset

Wednesday nights are usually my late night at work because once we employed many adjuncts, and most of them had a Wed. night class--I wanted to be available to them.  Now, it's a habit.  My spouse is usually at choir rehearsal, so it's a good night to stay late.

I drove home in the twilight.  I admired the clouds and the rosy colors.  I looked for the moon, last seen at the midpoint of the eclipse, but no luck.  The irrational brain of mine said, "What if the moon has been obscured forever?"

I decided to grade online materials, even though they weren't all submitted yet.  May as well work ahead. 

Although I could theoretically do computer work anywhere--I have a laptop, after all--I usually write in the front bedroom, the guest room, the library, the closet where I keep my clothes and boxes full of memorabilia and writing archives and Christmas decorations.  I write on the student desk left behind by my best friend from high school who later became a housemate.  The window above my desk faces east.

At one point last night, I saw a pearly glow from the east.  The irrational brain of mine said, "Did I work through the night?"

And then I realized that I was seeing the early hours of the moonrise.  Too late to get to the beach, where I bet it was spectacular.

It was still spectacular from my window.  The clouds came and went in huge feathers.  I got to the end of my grading.  I went to the front yard to get a better view.

I spent much of yesterday in love with the wonders of creation, from the moon in the early morning to the autumnal flowers in burgundy and butterscotch colors to the clouds that swirled through each hour to the moon at night.  I found myself with ample supplies of patience, as I helped students solve problems.  I usually enjoy being with colleagues and friends, but yesterday, they seemed even more special to me.

I suspect that much of my good mood came from being up early and having some solitary time to get some writing done. That good mood inspired an attentive air all day, which led to many moments of gratitude.  There's a lesson there.