23 degrees. The wind bites, ferocious and dark, yet Grandmother moon stands calm, serene, glowing in indigenous light. I am cold but want to seek the beauty a little longer.
“I’d like to go there,” my granddaughter’s tiny finger points to Venus. The planet sits just to the side and below the moon. The Christmas star, she was called in old. So far are we from so many worlds and systems from our eye. So many dimensions we do not clearly comprehend.
And through the cold and bitter bite of northern wind, we can revel still in the beauty bright of a starry, quiet, winter night.