Moon in Coloured Sky

The Moon is more than just a bright light in the sky. For starters, it’s our nearest neighbour in the Universe. It’s also almost big enough to be a planet in its own right — bigger than Pluto, who admittedly isn’t an actual planet anymore, and really not that much smaller than Mercury, who still is (hush, don’t tell Neil deGrasse Tyson). It gives us tides, and helps to ever so slightly massage the crust of the Earth to keep things in motion. We’ve even had people walking on it, for goodness’ sake. It looks rather pretty in clouds, and every now and then it teams up with the Sun to scare the willies out of people who think an eclipse means the world is going to end.

Photos © Bjørnar Andre Haveland
Click images to see larger versions.

Moon in Morning Clouds
Hanging out with twigs in blue-gray clouds, at 08:44 on 30-Nov-15.

This (above) is actually a composite of two nearly identical pictures; the first taken with the Moon in focus, and the branches blurry, and the second with the branches in focus and the moon a blur. These were later aligned and merged in Photoshop Elements to form a picture that is in sharp focus throughout.

Pink Moonrise
Rising in a pinkish, purplish sky, at 17:24 on 08-Nov-2011.

Majestic as it looks in the dark night sky, surrounded by the blackness of deep space, it really comes to life during twilight and daylight. This is when it bathes in colour, and looking anywhere from beautiful to stylish to downright fabulous.

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From the Mouths of Babes …

“Hi!” said a tiny voice on my left as I walked past a kindergarten, absorbed in my own little world of thought as is my habit. There would always be generous amounts of shouting and other playground noises here at this time of day, so I didn’t pay it much attention.

“Hey, mister!”

Now wait, the “mister” part was new. Might the voice be addressing me? I turned slowly and glanced over, eyes first as to not provoke anyone out to pounce on forty-five year old men looking at kindergarten kids.

“Hey, mister!” it said again, and I saw it belonged to a three year old girl who just then jumped off her swing and came running in my direction.

“Hi,” I said back, not wanting to seem rude.

“Mister, I’ve got to tell you something,” she blurted, huffing and puffing a bit after the dash across the grass. She hugged the iron fence with her fingers firmly clutching the diagonal wire mesh, and looked me straight in the eye with a dead serious expression on her face while her short breath subsided to normal.

“Oh?” I mused, slightly puzzled, “What’s that, then?”

The amused smile on my face must have been totally inappropriate for the occasion, because her expression tightened as if to indicate that this was no laughing matter. I opted to shut up and listen to whatever deep, cosmological truth the mind of this child was preparing to share with me.

“My dad has the exact same shirt as you!” she said.

“Oh … Oh, does he now?” I responded, slightly taken aback. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.

“Yes, he does. I think it’s nice. I like the blue. Yours is nice, too.”

“Well, thanks. I like it also.”

“You’re welcome. I got to go play. Bye!”

“Bye!”

And with that, and a whiff of turbulent air in her wake, she was gone.

So, in short, I think the Universe just communicated to me by way of a three year old girl that I picked the right shirt, which was on sale.

In retrospect it was probably a good idea to buy two.

Just a brief exercise in narrative writing, based on a real life event this morning. The translation from Norwegian is a loose approximation because, in fact, kids in Norway don’t say “mister” or anything resembling it, and frankly neither do grownups, but it flows better in English that way. That, and I really do like this shirt.

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