Perhaps we’re in the midst of a celestial spitting contest. Or maybe it’s compensation for a long, cold winter. (I know, I can’t complain about winter; I missed three weeks of it!)

But whatever it is we are enjoying not only glorious sunrises but also spectacular moon rises.

While some people spied last night’s orb orange on the horizon, I didn’t see it until I left the grocery store. It was big and white by then, surreal, disorienting. So outsize I mistook it at first for an earthbound thing, a construction light. But no, it was our dear old moon.

My last full moon was in Toura, Benin, on the edge of the Sahel, where it lit the village paths and huts. A moon there is a practical asset, a streetlight, a directional. The moon here is just another heavenly face. Good for the soul, which is good enough for me.