Montana June 21, 2024

I guess I’m trying to put memories in amber by writing them. Trying to hold on to the feelings, the excitement, the view.

The sky was painted horizontal and layered, dark and beautiful. We were chasing the moon in Bozeman through green pathways and a misty haze that accompanies a delicious meal and a bottle of wine.

I could not see but I just trusted and I followed. It was dark, the pathways uneven. Street lamps were few and the yellow glows from houses did not reach where we were trekking.

You, encouraging and leading the way, a playful sense of urgency, of racing against time. Me, laughing, and giddy and half blind in the darkness but joyfully following in your wake and glad.

There was a stiff wind and a warm breeze and branches occasionally grazing my head. There was quiet except for the sound of a distant train, the sound of our footsteps on the gravel. There was a smell of early summer punctuated with wafts of French lilacs as we scurried along.

You led us along streets, through alleys, down pathways. Every once in a while we would catch glimpses of the moon between houses and trees. Left, right, straight, left. I was floating and blissfully following you, with no real idea where we were. Just happy that I was with you, in that moment, in that quest.

Suddenly, you brought us to a clearing. You held my hand as we stopped moving. There she was. You gave me a front row seat to a bright, beautiful, full solstice moon making her way up in the sky through bands of clouds, silvery, black ribbons masking her and revealing her. A celestial striptease, just for us.

Thank you.