The moon’s not exactly an unfamiliar sight. As far as I can remember, I’ve been noticing it for most of a lifetime. I’ve seen full moons near the horizon burning in tree branches like giant fiery explosions and full moons at midnight beaming overhead like solitary white bulbs. In the glowing indigo of early dusk, I’ve seen crescents so wispy thin they were barely visible. I’ve seen introverted daytime gibbous moons hiding among cotton-puff clouds in the blue of a summer day. And I’ve seen moons in various degrees of lunar eclipse, as well as hopeful moons among tattered storm clouds, proud moons casting ghostly rainbow rings, ominous moons through haze and fog, and recently a moon completely blotting out the sun.
Simply speaking, I’ve seen the moon so much, I should have stopped paying attention long ago. I should have grown so used to such an ordinary sight that I forget it’s even there.
But I continue noticing the moon. So much of daily life is so ordinary. So much of the ordinary is full of wonder.
Common sights can become so familiar that they become invisible. But if you can still discover the variety and mystery and beauty and joy in what is common, even what is utterly ordinary can be endlessly new and deeply sacred.
Beyond Words 
My fav so far! Keep writing!!
LikeLike