Mabon Moon

The evening was a rich blue already deepening to violet around its edges and down in the dark shadows by the hedgerow. Purple is an autumn color too - the purple of Michaelmas daisies in bloom and these velvety September skies at nightfall. Last night, the garden behind the little blue house in the village was a vibrant purple at sunset, and it was touched here and there by the flames of the setting sun.

The sky was hung with early stars, and up came the moon of Harvest Home (or Mabon or the autumn equinox) like a lustrous but rather ghostly pearl over the old ash tree in the garden. Lady Moon and my great ash tree are old friends, and they converse about the season now and again, pointing out to each other the crimson of the maples, the gold of the willows, the coppery hues of the beeches.

That perfect waxing moon called out to be photographed last night, and so I did - no telephoto lens and no tripod. Perhaps the photo was meant to be.