Moonlight over Brooklyn

Tonight there is a full moon, fat and white and luminous against the velvety dark sky. Or almost full--I'm not quite sure if tonight is the actual night. It's clear out, and the air is soft. Earlier, I walked around outside after I got out of a community gathering that I usually go to on Tuesdays. I wasn't ready to go home, so I walked a few blocks, enjoying the cooling temperature and the busy life on the streets of my neighborhood. And taking comfort, somehow, in that bright, kind moonlight. I talked on the phone while I was walking, connecting with a friend I hadn't spoken to in a few days. Then I sat down on someone's stoop so I could focus on the conversation.

While I was outside, I remembered another evening a few days ago when I had also been walking around in the neighborhood. It was warm that night too, but cloudy. The moon was visible, but it was not full yet, and it had a fuzzy aura around it. As I was standing on a corner, hesitating about which restaurant to get takeout food from, two very convivial couples, grey-haired, maybe in their sixties, who had obviously just had a nice dinner together, came out of one of the restaurants. "Look at the moon," one of the men said. "It's fuzzy." "Yes," the woman with him said, laughing. "It has a cataract."