Rare moon over Donelson

If the streetlights went out on Jan. 30, you could navigate solely by moonlight. The supermoon's brightness cast our backyard in ambient hues.

This moon reserved a rare treat for early morning.

The rash of super moons and last year’s total solar eclipse culminated in a super blue blood moon – super - the moon is closer to Earth and appears larger and brighter than normal; blue - 2nd full moon of the month, not actually blue in color; and blood – red light shades the moon as it falls deeper into Earth’s shadow. This moon rose more rarely than most – the first since 1982 (first over the U.S. since 1866), the last until 2037.

I prefer lunar eclipses to solar eclipses, always have. No risk of burning out my eyes – Hell, You run outside for a lunar eclipse. Watching the moon turn blood red or blacken through the night enthralls me. I trace that sensation back to one summer night in Mentor, when I was still in elementary school and could stay up light to watch the whole escapade. The moon crossed above our backyard, gradually shifting to a wine-red sliver.

On this morning moon's brightness had not abated, and intensified the arrival of shadow. As the moon descended to the southwest, a hazy curtain of black crept in.

In 20 minutes the moon went from completely full to waxing gibbous, marching steadily toward a quarter moon. In an instant, as the terminator advanced across the largest cratered basins, the moon dropped from sight. I saw no more, needing the advantage of height my commute no longer offered.

The moon moved on, but its coda dazzled. A panoply of color raged up from the east. I will take what the sky offers, especially on a morning like this. Cresting a highway's hill, the Nashville skyline seemed delicate as the steel and glass absorbed the pinks and purples. The city softened in that moment, shedding its standard rush-hour hostility. 

When the next lunar eclipse comes (Jan. 21, 2019), wake me at any hour of the night, and I’ll watch till morning.