Blood Moon

I’m a “Look at the moon!” type of person.

(Equally, I’m a “Not you! You’re driving! I’ll tell you what the moon looks like!” type of person.)

I am also a “Look at that sunset!” type of person, a “Look at Cassiopeia!” type of person, and a “That’s an interesting cloud formation,” type of person. Instead of feeling small or insignificant when I look at the stars or the skies, I always feel more present—not necessarily important, but more like—

I, too, exist.

On September 28, when the lunar eclipse + supermoon + harvest moon + blue moon + werewolf moon occurred, I decided that there was no way I could avoid making that moon an experience. And, luckily, I had that most useful of college resources: a friend with a car.

Because it was a Sunday night, and, like most students, we had neglected our homework until the aligned stars and sheer panic coincided appropriately, we did not have much time to go out and experience this once in a lifetime lunar event. This took driving to the middle of nowhere off the table.

Instead, we drove down to the Chinese Garden and Reconciliation Park, which is right on the water. The road lights cast a faint glow over the path, but the darkness that emanated from the water created the sense of being in an area with much less human habitation

The moon did not shine at all—instead, it just hovered in the sky over the warship (name and technical class of ship unknown) by the Park. It was a deep dark red, not the orange fire I was expecting but a color that looked much more like dried blood.

The smudge that you think is on your computer is actually the moon.

The smudge* that you think is on your computer is actually the moon.                                                    *my camera is so so so bad it’s horrible

We watched the moon for about half an hour; the normal glow of the moon slowly began to crawl across its surface, breaking through the dark shadow. The wind came off the Sound, cutting through the seams on my jeans and chilling my feet. The stars glittered faintly overhead.

The moon, in all honesty, was smaller and somehow less grand than I had expected. A once in a lifetime lunar event should feel like a once in a lifetime lunar event.


A friend sent me this photo later. This is what the moon looked like in person, instead of a minuscule blackish dot.

This felt more like a nice evening by the sea, watching the moon rise and the stars come out and the lights of the warship twinkle. That was all that mattered to me.

Then we returned to campus to continue our homework.