ITS A BIRD; ITS A PLANE...

It came as a relief, this morning, as I sat at my computer in front of the living room window. It seemed miraculous to look up – up I say – into the sky and see something there, something perched high in the sky overhead. It was a comfort, as though a bit of home had arrived to offer a longed for security.

Then I realized something; I looked at the clock and put the proverbial two and two together. That's the moon; what the hell is it doing there. It is half past nine in the morning; shouldn't you be the sun? Ach, no; that's way over there, down south, barely peeking over the building-tops.

I point it out to the wife; she wonders whether, then, someone in Japan is likewise looking out their window wondering just where their moon has gone. I can only reply, "Aye."

I suppose I should be grateful, though, for the small blessing of something up there at all, for the rare opportunity to look upward for something other than the crown moldings in our high-ceilinged flat, for the chance to actually stretch my underused neck muscles in that direction. I probably just ought to enjoy this moment, for in far too few hours this sky will inevitably return to its now seemingly native cloud-covered blackness of night.

Ah, the wonders of the E________ sky.