Tag: night

One Deep Blue

One Deep Blue

Beth DeFries3 Comments

Sitting on the balcony with a cold beer and and the expansive view of a white Atlantic, the muse returns. Escorted on the arm of a gentle breeze on this cool August evening, it seemed as good a time as any to pursue its inspiration.

The sun climbs down the hill behind us after a long day’s journey and the blue and gold sky fades to periwinkle, clouds towering like tidal waves above the horizon, preparing to swallow the shore. The street lamps on Sandy Hook ignite in a synchronized splash and pairs of headlights make their way homeward or adventure bound.

Summer is in full swing though the humid haze called in sick. We don’t miss it.

Nights like these, you can hear yourself think and even turn that off if you wanted to. I tune in to a symphony of birds, crickets, and the exhalation of car engines in the distance. Air conditioners take a well deserved rest and their lack of participation is welcome.

Our eyes adjust to the dimming dusk as the river mirrors the sky. Long Island twinkles animatedly in the distance and the JFK departures rise slow into ombré velvet, brushed just the right way.

I pull up a cozy throw of summer air under my laptop and nestle in with all the other nestling buildings, plants, and people. Together, we all fade from view into one deep blue.

A Toast to the Big, Red Moon

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

Last night, after eating dinner by candlelight, we sat out on the balcony to catch the cool breeze that rolled westward off the ocean. The familiar, dusky darkness wrapped us in its dependable embrace while we sipped warm, red wine from stemless glasses watching bats as they zoomed above the parking lot in erratic flight.

Deprived of some of the conveniences that we usually take for granted, the dark opened our eyes to its hidden beauty which we often overlook. The bats, for one were a confusing entertainment, one we had not yet observed as we are often inside at that time, perpetually half-distracted by the digital world that we allow to bombard us daily. The big, red moon was another, more familiar one.

I did not realize until moving to the shore that when the moon rises at night over the ocean, it appears very large in size and reflects a deep red complexion. It is not a blood moon or a honey moon, but rather, just the regular old moon that many people have seen as orange, pale gold, or white in color as it rises higher in the sky. The big, red moon has become one of my favorite aspects of having an ocean view and last night, sitting out in the breezy darkness, we had excellent seats to watch it rise above the glassy, black horizon.

Without the light pollution from the parking lot and patio lights of our complex or from the streetlights on the bridge linking the mainland to the barrier island, our view had little disruption. It appeared above the water, slightly south east, and we marveled at its reassuring sight.

Meanwhile, in the far distance on Long Island, a tiny fireworks show of red and gold dazzled like a Lilliput carnival and further west in the distance, the planes taking off from and landing at JFK floated slowly in the sky like glowing, paper lanterns. We sipped our warm, red wine, chatted, and smiled, feeling lucky to live where we live. All the while, our home was filled with the deep navy of night and nothing but the breeze from the open windows to cool it, but we had each other and welcomed our present, pleasant company of the big red moon.