Moon Over Water

My feet literally hang over the pier, my suede bucks taking on a life of its own. Before me the moon rises. I watched it enter the sky, rise up above the horizon, above the Bay Bridge. It’s so peaceful here at this moment. The day is over, with dancing lights sprinkling itself on the waters of the bay. The moon is center stage, the star of this particular evening’s soap opera. At one point, late in the evening, early in the night when the moon first appears, it almost looks like the sun, yellow against a black sky. This is pure bliss.

There is a couple next to me, from Hawaii as I gathered from their conversation, a gentle private one, though one they are not trying to hide. Their voices soon fade into nothingness as the sounds of the waters take a foothold into my mind. To my right, a thick stream of clouds roll in, just behind Scomas and Trident. It’s long arm extends far into the bay, above the city like a wet blanket invading the moon’s gaze. The Bay Bridge shines brightly and proudly, uninterested in the moon’s perspective. But it’s the water that’s the most mesmerizing outside of the moon as its light shines upon its rippling waters. Tonight it speaks as it sways.

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