Red Moon

I spent a good portion of today in my car. And while my destination — Meredith’s visitation — was not exactly what I would have wished for, I was determined to see what I could notice on my way there and back.

When I pulled off for a potty break (and a Snickers!) at St. Elmo, I noticed the smell of freshly oiled roads.

I can remember times when Mom would be driving us around, and we’d end up on a country road, and all of a sudden she would take a turn onto a road that had just been oiled ... and she would grumble and the white rocks would clank against the side of the car, and afterwards, oil would be all over the sides and bumpers, and sometimes even the hood.



This is the Thompson Mill Covered Bridge. I have not been here since ... geez, I cannot even remember when. Suffice it to say I was a high-schooler last time I saw this bridge, possibly a college student. I was rather disappointed to see that the inside was nearly covered with graffiti.
Seriously: Where’s the thrill in that? I must be missing something.

Anyhoo, the last time I was at this covered bridge, or perhaps the next-to-last time, my fellow youth group members and I had ventured up from our campsite. We were canoeing the Kaskaskia, which we did 3 or 4 times, and we had set up camp at a spot in the river where there was this old oak tree. Or maybe it was an elm, or some other kind of tree (like I remember ... as if I know my trees, even if I did remember). Point is, the tree had a rope hanging down from its biggest branch, and one by one, each of us took a turn swinging out over the river and dropping into the water.

Karen took a few turns, too, but for some reason, she wouldn’t let go at the right time; instead, she’d swing out as far as she could, twist around and somehow end up dragging her whole lower body through the water before finally releasing her grip on the rope. After doing this 2 or 3 times, her legs were completely red!

:o

On this day, one highlight occurred as I was driving around a blind curve and looked ahead and saw a couple of horses and a big barn. (I think the horses might have been hugging ... if horses can hug.)



And I kept noticing wheat fields. I swear, I have never noticed them before; now I find myself looking for them, in no small part because of that Le Petit Prince reference. My favorite part about this photo is the detail, despite the fact that I shot it from my car.



I had a difficult time making cell phone calls during my drive through this part of the state; I wonder if it had something to do with the local technology?



So, anyway, the whole day was building up to tonight’s strawberry moon. I figured that I would happen upon it during my drive home after the visitation, and I was hoping to pull off the interstate, set up somewhere safe and attempt to take some pictures of the full moon.

I had no idea when the moonrise would take place, however, ’cause I didn’t bother to check The Farmers Almanac online. I was thinking sometime after 8 p.m., which would be just about perfect.

We were in line for more than an hour at the visitation. There were TONS of people there, including several I had not seen since high school (even saw one of my two MAJOR crunches from senior year!), so the event was less sad than I would have expected.

I left the funeral home feeling somewhat full of wonder. So many people showed up to pay their respects to this beautiful woman; I wonder if she had any idea how many lives she touched?

During the drive home, I kept searching for the moon. I remembered the time I had looked for it whilst driving home from Whale Rider, and how I had glanced up and seen it, right in front of me, this deep, dark red just over the black horizon.

Same thing happened tonight: I drove around the curve just south of Mt. Vernon, looked up, and there it was. Fortunately, I was only a few miles from the college, so I exited the interstate, drove to the college, parked in the east lot and set up my mini tripod on the hood of my car.

A couple of people pulled up to ask me if I was taking a picture of the moon. I told them I was trying to, and eventually they moseyed on.

And I got a few. And at least one good one.



Just as I had finished shooting, I put my stuff in the car and looked out toward a corn field and saw what I believed to be A SKUNK slinking along the edge of the field! Granted, the varmint was several feet away; nevertheless, I quickly (and quietly) shut the car door and waited for it to scurry well past before I started the car.

And no, I did NOT attempt to take its picture!

: )