...at the end of the...

The moon stops me in my tracks every time. I used to be completely fascinated, in pre-strawberry times, and would often be disturbed in moon-gazing mode. I've never tried to capture her before, and this first effort is poor by even my standards. Last night she was much bigger, and shed roomfuls more light through the whole house.

Of course this last fact was only discovered when all the cleaning, tidying and ironing had been done and artificial lights were extinguished throughout. I don't quite know why I was wandering in the dark through the kitchen, and I certainly had an armful of now forgotten but then essential somethings. But it all stopped mid-flow with one glance outside.

She is the most fabulous thing. Dancing round us the whole time, and showing only what she will. Last night, however, for the first she was more than just the round and cratered moon. She was the whole sky beyond, and I was glimpsing her through the proverbial black tunnel. There was the light, and that light was coming into my world, though the darkness wouldn't recognise it.

I'm ready for more light.