Yesterday morning, before dawn, I was speeding down the autostrada on my way home from an early morning airport drop off. I was driving straight into the setting moon. It was full and bright and with each passing kilometer growing larger as it changed from yellow to orange. As if it was all perfectly orchestrated, I exited the autostrada just as the moon slipped be hind the mountains. It was all dreamy, really, and after I got back home, crawled in bed and slept for another couple of hours I wondered if it all had been a dream.
After a day full of vacuuming, mopping, repairing backpacks, and making sure everyone was ready to head back to school and work, I walked out to the clothes line, and who should be their to greet me? La Bella Luna, big, bright, and beautiful a midst glowing pink clouds. I was in love.
My romance with the moon spilled over into the morning. When I awoke there she was again, being gobbled up by the snowy mountains at a dizzying speed.
As the sky grew light we said our good-byes and I promised to hang more laundry and meet her at our rendezvous point again this evening. I smiled and thought to myself, "Is this lunacy?"