November 28, 2023

Sunday night I rode along with him to double check the new configuration on the water tank. It was as cloudless as it had been during the afternoon when I was wandering around so the moonlight on the snow was bright enough we didn’t need headlights. It was ethereal and other worldly driving through the prairie without artificial light beaming on the road. Details were muted or left to the imagination, salt bushes and trees were inkspots, and the snow still glittered in the light but it was muted. It was magic.

While he tinkered with the pump, I walked down the road away from the task light. I heard an owl and coyotes calling in the half light. Despite the moon, I could still see a lot of stars but alas no Milky Way. While I was wandering around I remembered the nights I would stay up with him when the cows were calving here at home. They always have their babies in January and February which is typically the coldest weather we have. For about a minute I missed those nights I was bundled up like the child of a nervous mother with only my eyes and nostrils showing. But Sunday night I only needed my big coat, scarf, and a wool hat. It was a “marvelous night for a moon dance”.