I was walking up a hill last night in the dark — hemmed in by laurel and photinia hedges, by hundred-year-old houses — and was met at the top by the moon, our illuminated dream-keeper and insomniac companion, our endlessly romanticized satellite rising full blaze above the Cascade Mountains and stunning me breathless, stumbling me with astonished wonder.
What we're really seeing is a massive heart of liquid iron encased in an olio of minerals: feldspar, olivine, pyroxene, limenite. Back this mess of minerals up 238,900 miles, shine a light on it,
et voilà: our grand dame of nocturnal beauty.
Of course, I didn't consider the lunar mineral content until today, when I decided I wanted to write more than just:
O behold!
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photo by David Hutchinson |
The latent scientist in me does battle with the poet, every day.
Our nights are almost like days. Plenty to go round.
ReplyDeleteOne of the most beautiful posts in every way. As one who loves the sciences and the arts and the art of science, I commend thee heartily.
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