Western canvas: land of enchanted skies

Just look west, they said, just after sunset, they said.

All through June, they said.

So I did.
 

It was like a Bob Dylan song. The crescent moon, the ghost of her potential and some important stars were dancing.


Goodnight, New Mexico!

Honey moon

Strawberry moon, berry moon, honey moon, the enchanted moon in June, whatever the name you know it by, this bright silver celestial body called me out to go walking in a chilly desert pre-dawn two days running now.

 Some things never change. Always the lunatic.

Waxing full howl in blue.

And just when the honey moon is feeling like it is pretty much over, too. Moonset on an idle dream.

Then the clouding, veiling, waning.