And I see a voice saying, "Look!"

Tonight I drove east on Baseline, over the hill at the edge of Claremont. It was dusk or perhaps twilight, and the sky kept some of its light. I came over the hill at the border of Claremont, and the moon was there, hanging full or almost full on the horizon and huger than I'd ever seen it. Red-gold, like strawberry blonde hair in sunlight. Surprised, I gasped as though an invisible someone had touched me.

As I was leaving for Mudd, the moon was well overhead, shrunk to perhaps a quarter of its earlier size. The mountains glowed silver where its light touched the snow.