That time every month when a full moon rises over San Francisco Bay is a time for an evening ride, particularly if you have a shut-in with cabin fever.
I've had a house full of the ill and injured lately, with sicknesses and hurts aplenty. Tonight, driving two of them back to Bernal, I spotted the moonrise; later two more of us drove to the side of the Bay to check it out.
That's when I snapped these photos. (They enlarge upon clicking, and these ones may be worth that.)
As I watched, the night deepened. The air was both warm and cool, springlike but vulnerable to breezes sweeping in from the west.
As night fell, it got cooler. The whisper of today's tsunami in the Pacific drifted over the land. Far to the south, of course, the earth had moved -- dramatically.
Nothing quite like a disaster of this scope, whether an earthquake or a volcano or a hurricane, reminds us of how inter-connected we all are.
Plates move off the coast of Chili and a giant wave approaches Japan. A mountain blows its top in Indonesia and the air fouls over Germany. A hurricane smashes into Central America and Kansas City floods.
If only we all remembered how much we are all in this together!
If only we didn't divide across racial, religious, color, gender, political and social lines. All of these divisions are, in fact, trivial.
The hateful rhetoric in American politics, for example, is utterly baseless. The attacks are the product of fantasy and fear.
Those who fear change fight it with hate. This has always been so. It continues.
I, for one, am no longer listening. Those who spit such filth from their lips froth with weakness. May they eat their rhetoric. After a giant storm to come, their words may be all they have, after all.
Then, with the awful grace of God, may they be forced to turn to a person of another color, or race or religion or -- heaven forbid!, a liberal -- to eat their next warm meal.
Have no illusion. Even this experience would not hold back the tide of rightist hate that is sweeping across this land. America is in trouble; a storm builds.
Still, above it all, the moon rises, the moon sets. I'm powerless about the political tsunami; rather than fight it I turn away and wait for it, too, to pass.
The moon shows it no respect; neither shall I.
-30-
1 comment:
What gorgeous photographs! I found myself lost in them. The moon has often fascinated me- especially knowing when I am in another country I see the same moon someone else sees across the world. We are all interconnected.
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