Together again...

As I reached the top of the grade last evening, a seldom seen sight appeared in the sky before me. Slightly to my east, a pale almost full moon hung high in the twilight sky. To the west, the giant golden orb of a sun nestled comfortably into the expansive horizon. The moon and the sun in the same sky. My sky.

The long and winding mountain road from Escondido to Valley Center is both scenic and treacherous. As I drove, I tensed a bit, ever mindful of Carlos, our indefatigable farm worker. When he first came to us, he had a more-than-noticeable limp due to his shorter stiffened leg; he rocked as he moved. His left arm, also compromised; shorter than the right with diminished mobility. Carlos’ had been the passenger in a car that went off the side of the grade, this grade, into the pitch black canyon as his buddy finished his seventh beer of the night.

When I reached the top of the long snaking route, my ears plugged from the change in altitude of the climb and my body began to relax as I navigated the straight road ahead for my weekend return to the country.

It was at this point that both the moon and the sun presented themselves in the sky overhead. The blaze of the setting sun overshadowed the gentle oncoming moon so that the sky seemed lopsided. The sun, resplendent in its end of day glory; the moon coming over the grey-blue mountains seemed to hover in compassion.

When I lived in the country, my house had windows facing direction – huge windows with unparalleled views. I basked in the sunshine and lingered in the glow of the moonshine. I began my book there. I wrote about the moon and the sun hanging in the sky together over our country paradise:

“Jack and I read with a passion, often reading passages aloud to one another. In One Hundred Years of Solitude, a book he gave me one Valentine’s Day long before we began our life at The OrangeWoods, Gabriel García Márquez describes the paradise of shared solitude. When we lingered alone together in the majesty of our surroundings, often with both the sun and moon sitting in the sky, we occasionally read passages to one another. Our favorite: 'They enjoyed the miracle of loving each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out people, they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.'”

I completed my manuscript after moving to 215 in the city. I can walk to the First Street Bridge for full view of the sky’s moon and sun. Or sometimes, if I hang out over my balcony railing at just the right time, I can see one or the other.

Bittersweet to understand that my country sun and moon are the same as those in my city sky. And to see them in the sky together is beautiful.