Speaking of Pale Fires
Twice now I've missed incredible moons. When was it--some time in spring--that I missed, except in poem, the perigee moon (driving down 4th early in the morning I thought I'd be crushed). Last night I was walking the dog and an incredible waning crescent moon--west on 4th, low on the horizon--was begging to be captured. The dog took forever (yes, Lucie), and by the time I returned with my camera it was gone. I walked all the way to the corner liquor store hoping to get a shot. No luck.
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