Friday, October 17, 2008


There are some wonderful things about having a poor memory. I can read a book I've read before - see a movie - have an entire conversation - and not be bored, because I don't remember reading/viewing/talking it before.

So when I say I have never seen a moon rise, I must qualify that I do not remember actually seeing the moon rise before this evening.

I have seen the sun rise - in fact, a lot, because that's about the time I feed the horses. And I've seen the sun set, and even have seen the green flash (sorry, Blake).

And I have seen the moon set a number of times, because if it's anywhere near setting, I will stay up, sitting on the porch, and let my dog roam for however long it takes to set behind the Huachuca Mountains. There's a moment right at the end where the trees along the top are silhouetted by the moon behind them - and it's just awesome.

So tonight I was spoiling Najale and Sally, as I do every evening, with a handfull of carrots (also a training technique; Najale doesn't get a single bite until he allows, politely, no less, Sally to come up to the gate and get the first carrot - he does it, very begrudgingly, but he does do it).

It's also a wonderful opportunity for me to test my night-blindness level. I live out in the country - with light pollution laws (that expression bothered the hell out of me until it became a factor in my life), no street lights, no city lights (except on the north horizon) and an incredible view of the stars every night - even when there is a full moon.

So when I walk out when it's dark... it is DARK. Makes me much more aware of the moon cycles, because it's much easier when there is some moon light. Otherwise, I am trusting my dog to walk the correct way to the gate, and following him.

And just happened to notice that the horizon was getting lighter and lighter - and I stood there (and annoyed the heck out of the horses, since I temporarily held back the carrots) and actually saw the moon rise.