The Silver Lining

There is one thing I did not mention about my journey home last night that was my brief capture of a silver lining. About halfway into the flight, I had to get up and have a stretch. I walked to the back of the plane to the open galley where the flight attendants were playing cards. I did a few stretches to reinvigorate my limbs and gazed out the window to the skies. There over the terrain of Nova Scotia was an inky blue sky framing my friend, the lonely full moon. The moon's face was illuminating an undulating sea of clouds that covered the earth like a luxury duvet. I am drawn to the moon--we are distant friends--and last night it guided me home. After the drama at the airport, I slumped in the back seat of a taxi as it sped down the Van Wyck. From this vantage point, I watched my lunar friend retouch the borough of Queens with its flattering silver light. Under this curious visual influence, we might have been in Narnia or Iceland. Such mastery; such trickery; such a mischievous vixen.