It was the last full moon of the year – and the decade.
Our calendars and our clocks do not make any variance in the movement of the stars, or the planets, or their moons. Our clocks and calendars allow us to track the procession of the heavenly bodies, but they do not guide them. Never the less, when a celestial event happens on a meaning-filled date it is remarkable; that is in the sense that the juxtaposition may be remarked upon.
For me the 12th day of December is a meaning-filled date. When an event is forecast for that date for me it is remarkable.
So it was with the Full Cold Moon on an early morning of mid-December. I went outside and took my picture in the light of the last full moon of the decade just at the peak of its brightness.
Or so I thought.
Having herein proclaimed that the celestial bodies do not care about our watches or calendars, I must say I was 24 hours off.
I stood outside, bundled against the cold, watching the moon creep towards its zenith, and I thought its brightest. My watch told me that the time was approaching 12:15 AM on December 13th. At that moment, I turned so that I was not in the Moon’s shadow and took my picture, with the full moon in the background masked by light clouds.
The peak of the full moon, I later discovered, had been a full day before on 12 December. I was standing outside on the morning of 13 December.
But this was not like the transit of Mercury which happens and then is over. If I missed the fullness of the moon on the 12th of December, I could still take my picture of me and the moon 24 hours later. And I could still declare that the event and the picture were meaningful to me.
A picture of me with the moon at the actual time of the event would be more preferable, but I was ok. It was a grand night. It was cold and partly clear. I could see the moon and a star or two shining through the thin clouds. I could hear the dogs in the neighborhood barking, perhaps at a fox, or a stray cat, or maybe at the moon.
And I was outside enjoying it all.