The pictures came out right, which feels important to say because usually they don’t. Usually the moon gets flattened or blurred or turned into something smaller than it was, but tonight it stayed sharp. White. Cold.
It’s winter, so everything felt closer to the bone. The air, the quiet, the way sound doesn’t carry the same way. I stood outside longer than I meant to, hands freezing, breath visible, just looking up.
The moon was full in a way that felt steady instead of loud. It wasn’t dramatic and it wasn’t asking to be turned into meaning. It was just there, doing what it always does, even while everything else feels unfinished.
It’s the end of the month, and I can feel that more in my body than in my head. Like something is closing without anything really changing. No big realization, no clean line between before and after. Just the quiet sense of time moving forward whether I’m ready or not.
I think I liked how distant the moon was. How it didn’t reach for me or try to meet me where I was. It didn’t care if I was changing or staying the same, and somehow that made it feel steadier. Like not everything has to respond to me to be real.
I didn’t feel fixed or enlightened. I just felt grounded for a moment, which is different. Like my body knew where it was, even if the rest of me is still figuring things out.
The month ended. The moon stayed full. Winter stayed winter. And I went back inside.