A moonlight walk in the snow…

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Sounds romantic, doesn’t it?  Actually, it was pretty spiritual.  The moon was the shape of an egg.  I don’t see that very often.  Somehow, it had passed full, and gone to Gibbous before I knew it, and I like to keep up with that sort of thing.

I was walking to early morning Mass, and the reflection of the moonlight on the remaining snow was just too much to take in.  One branch of my family would say, “Too much for Helmer,” but that is an inside expression, and wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else.   Still, that is what I thought.  “It’s too much for Helmer.”

The stark twigs of the trees popped against the bright light of the moon, and I found myself feeling supremely grateful for so many things…being able to walk mostly wherever I want to go, this little life of mine that I am making, my faith, my surroundings, my loved ones, and my friends old and new, near and far.

Romance certainly has peculiar ways of showing itself, and it doesn’t actually have to involve, well, romance.

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