The last few weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind, and the coming weeks show no signs of slowing down. I have, however, been able to spend more time outside in the evenings. I even spent a night out camping last week with my sons. We headed up into a more northern part of Georgia and got away from the city lights. I was grateful to have my telescope with me and let it run all night, capturing as many light photos as it would allow, and the results did not disappoint. A dim galaxy slowly appeared hovering over our tents as the humid Georgia air gradually dropped into a cool morning dew. The picture I captured of that galaxy far, far away is above.
So as this week has progressed, I have been watching the moon make its slow return back into our evening skies; a waxing Cheshire Cat smile as it brushes close to Venus and starts moving higher in the sky each night. I always find a sense of peace seeing the moon smiling back at me (unlike the creepy smile I remember as a child of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland).
There’s something steadying about watching the moon vanish and return like this, the same quiet rhythm every month. Lamentations 3:22-23 puts words to it better than I can: “The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning.” The moon’s own emptying and filling feels like a small, physical echo of that promise; nothing here is lost for good, and what comes back arrives with its own quiet brightness.
So I encourage you to step outside the next few evenings just after sunset and look west to see the moon’s quiet return.
Until next time, keep looking up!
-g