Last night as we were eating dinner (grilled lamb chops, stir-fried Chinese beans, and small red potatoes, cut and sautéed in olive oil with garlic and rosemary), I’d get up and walk to the windows occasionally. I was waiting for the full moon over the Bay Bridge – a photo op that comes once every twenty-eight days. If that.
At 8:50P there was still no sign of the moon. How can that be? Where is the moon? We finished dinner and moved to our chairs where we sat, finishing our glasses of wine.
A little after nine the moon finally appeared, rising orange behind the bridge. Then yellow. Then white, as it rose in the sky.
All Rayleigh, his nibs said.
