Luna in Hunter's Moon

Two nights ago, a group of us hiked up a short trail to a granite dome and watched the full moon rise over Bass Lake.  It was the Hunter's Moon, also known as the blood moon or sanguine moon, a time for stockpiling food for the winter.  We sat on the rock with no need to hunt or worry about food for the winter, and watched the moon's gradual appearance.  

Soon, however, she was outshown by her reflection across the dark water.  At first we noticed dark fingers in the reflection as the tall pines along the far shore threw their shadows against the bright pool of reflected moon.  Then we watched as the reflection brightened and continuously changed shapes,  Ducks and geese drew lines in the light and the pines on our side of the lake fringed the glimmering reflection.  We sat mesmerized, talking a little, a few people drumming but more or less just watching the changing light show.

Yesterday as the image of that bright reflection, actually a reflection of a reflection of the sun we couldn't see at all, continued to haunt me, the image above emerged, in some ways a continuation of the rippling reflection that held our gaze and connected us in time with each other and with the people who came before us whose lives required close relationship with the world around them. For a short moment we felt that relationship.