I never thought to check when the full moon would be, in fact I pay it no attention in the summer and almost forget there’s a moon for months at a time. Tonight’s abrupt encounter reminds me summer is almost over. At first it mysteriously appeared as a light through the trees like a lantern in a cabin. Then the moonrise came above the trees and there it sat for the rest of the night, over the mountains, until I fell asleep.
I stayed awake until after midnight, my tent alight with the silver moonbeams. A reflection could be seen through my vestibule, a moon shadow glowing upon the water sparkling with each wave. I’ve memorized most of the names of the autumn and winter moons, especially those that bring delight in the darkest days by lighting up the snow-filled valleys. The Beaver Moon, the Cold Moon, the Wolf Moon, the Snow Moon. But this one - this August moon- I haven’t met yet, and I introduce myself to a new full moon, the one right before the Hunter’s Moon and the Harvest Moon, and for that night I embrace the company of the Sturgeon Moon.