By day the moon has hung in the sky, translucent white against a rich , clear blue.
Tonight Orion wears a cloak of silver and the sky is bleached of stars by the bright light of the moon. Only our moonshadow-black cats give us away this eve as we move through the pale light. The winding path to the house is silvered with the moonlight and fragments of ice from the moon sprinkle the grasses and leaves edging them with white frosting. Ice creaks on still water. It is cold. Whispered waves sound close in the crisp air.
Inside the house is warm, a fire glows again. We sing a short song to the moon and hope for clear skies.