I see the moon and the moon sees me. When I was a child I can remember on warm summer nights and chilly winter ones, looking at the moon and being mesmerized by that pearly orb. I remember sometimes in the summer, it would take on a reddish orange hue, and then in the middle of winter, a silvery blue. There were countless wishes made on those stars that stood guard around that shimmery disc, and often I looked in wonderment at the valleys and mountains on its surface trying to see if there really was a man in the moon. I think of times that the soft hazy glow of moisture looked like angora yarns wrapping the moon in a cozy shawl, letting me know that rain was on its way. The first time that I read about the connection of the moon/tide/gravity, I knew that all the years I believed in the magic of the moon were not in vain, the magic was there.
Science had proved it for me! When the space program was in its prime, I kept thinking that one day, someone like me would get to walk on the moon. A vacation on the moon, when I was a teenager that was one of my dream vacation spots.
Books, songs, movies, poems have all been written in celebration of the moon and its powers.
My great nephew, Jordan's favorite book is Goodnight Moon. He never tires of hearing the story. We have a telescope, we are going to set it up this week and maybe Jordan can look at the moon, and yell out Goodnight Moon!
Tonight as I looked at its silvery light, just like time and time before, I felt its magic. I whispered good night moon, I see you, and you know I think the moon saw me.