The Eclipse

There have been other eclipses in recent memory,

http://leavingdivorceville.blogspot.com/2015/09/super-moonblood-moon-and-its-eclipse.html

http://leavingdivorceville.blogspot.com/2011/12/theres-total-eclipse-of-moon-going-on.html

but none quite like last night's. The moon was not a wafer, it was a fully dimensional sphere. It seemed so real in a way it hadn't been before, and it made this planet we live and breathe on seem more real too.

My mom loved  the moon, so of course I thought of her, and I remembered the night of a lunar eclipse a few years back when Dan and I went into McDonalds and tried to buy two senior coffees but couldn't come up with the full 1.20. The girl waiting on us thought we were homeless, I think, and she gave us the coffees anyway and filled up a little paper sack with creamers and sugars.

View from my patio

 No one offered me free coffee this morning but I did get out of my car on the beach and wander/wonder around a bit in my cheetah print pajamas covered up with a long tweed wool winter coat and a big scarf.

The moon hovering over a pink ocean at sunrise

There were other spectators too, and it was kind of a party without any talking. I saw two older women with canes and a thermos of coffee work their way to the top of the rocks where they filled their mugs and settled in.

Really, the whole thing was fabulous.

Sinking into the silver water

Super Moon/Blood Moon and Its Eclipse

Mural by Los Angeles artist Kent Twitchell

It's been a million years or so since my regular drives on the Hollywood Freeway that took me by this mural. The mural has long since been painted over and the '66 Dodge Coronet that carried me through L.A, was consigned to the scrap heap ages ago. But the freeway lady materialized before my eyes tonight when M and I wheeled my mom outside and around the corner to see the eclipse.

Just like that the past slipped its shadow in front of the present. I was my daughter's age, windows rolled down, the heat of the freeway and southern California's 70s drought searing me to the seat of that old car. I didn't know I'd end up here and now with grown children and an ancient mother, trailing the wreckage of a life behind me as long as the freeway lady's afghan.

But here we are. Tonight my mother and my daughter and I stood outside and stared at the moon as it disappeared. Gone. Like a painted over mural.

Almost

This was almost a charming photo of a real life bunny sitting in the grass.

And last night I almost remembered the lunar eclipse.

Tonight, I'm remembering The Night I Saw This Moon.

Lunar Eclipse

"There's a total eclipse of the moon going on right now," the man who loves me said as he climbed back into bed with his iPad. It was the first I'd heard of the lunar eclipse. The newspapers for the past couple of days sat in a stack on my dining room table. My various electronic devices had delivered only more earthbound news. It was warm under the covers, but after a minute we threw on our clothes and braved the morning chill. There it was in the western sky, a slivery fingernail, edging above an apartment building and some trees. As we watched, the moon disappeared altogether, but just as quickly began to reappear as we discussed whether to establish an observation perch on nearby cement wall or walk for coffee. Walk for coffee, we decided. Unable keep our eyes on the sky while picking our way over the dark uneven sidewalks, we lost sight of the moon--as if it had gone out for coffee, too.

Senior coffee costs 60 cents at McDonald's. But the moon had distracted us from worldly concerns like wallets. The man who loves me had $1.08 cents in his pocket. The girl behind the counter scooped it up, and gave us two coffees, and offered cream and sugar. "Cream," I said. She nodded and gave me at least a half-dozen of the little single-serving containers. The homeless person's breakfast, I thought. I've seen it done. A small cup of plain coffee, a good portion of it dumped out and replaced with half-and-half, then doctored with lots of sugar. I took only one of the little containers and gave her the rest back.

The moon was gone for good when we went back outside. Even though we walked uphill looking for a vantage point, what we saw was a moonless pink and gold sky. The sun was taking over the show. But we'd caught the best part. The entire loss of lunar light; it's breathtaking absence, and then the first glimpse of that cold white light's return. Walking home as the dawn burgeoned, I felt incredibly lucky.

Photo credit: http://www.niharsworld.com