perigee

my first memory of my grandfather is when he showed me the moon through his telescope. i must have been four or five at the time and the magic of seeing the dark side of the moon and her craters with such sudden and unanticipated clarity will always stay with me. central to this memory is the moment i realized the moon doesn't actually change shape in the sky, just merely her appearance.

perhaps most significant of all is the feeling that has never left me since that alabama evening so long ago: taking on to my child-width shoulders the burden that there was so much to the world i didn't understand.

not much has changed in 25 years, particularly not my awe at the moon. and tonight, as she made her pass at the earth – this year's perigee – i spent a few still moments along the shore of lake washington, just down the hill from my place, appreciating her magnificence.