“I’ve never liked full moons; it gives people an excuse to act foolish,” – Maya Angelou
As I walked up the path to the house, I glanced up and saw the whole wide moon staring down at me. A clear sky surrounded the moon and its magnificence lit the garden.
I thought back to some of the full moon nights I had witnessed in my life. I’ve been fortunate enough to always be surprised at the impression it gives and the places I’ve seen it. I’ve watched the moon rise slowly over the Thames from the deck of a river boat, from the edge of a pier on the Pacific Ocean, peeking through my bedsit window when I was a student and once, quite recently, as I waited for a train at Haymarket station.
Each time I see a full moon I’m struck through by its simple beauty and the way it gives everything it lights up a special little glow. I find myself disappointed when I spot a full moon when I’m alone, as though I should be pointing it out to someone.
There are different types of full moon. Sometimes it’s small, like a football suspended it mid air, just beyond your reach. Other times, its huge, overpowering, lighting up the whole night sky and making you feel tiny and suddenly you are aware of your place in the world. I can almost picture myself the size of a needle’s eye, peeking out from a giant pin cushion. Then there are those rare times, usually in the summer, when the sun is beginning to set and for a brief while, the sunset and the moonrise share the same sky.
The thing about moonlight, for me anyway, is that whenever I spot it, I feel like I should be doing something mischievous, like breaking into a park at night, or sneaking into someone else’s swimming pool. I know it’s silly, but a full moon brings out the adventurer in me.
Try this, write a scene set on the night of a full moon. How does the light at night influence what your characters do?
Writing Prompt: Moonglow