Late Winter Moonrise Over Lake Harriet

It is the kind of thing that inspires poets and madmen, a cold rosy pink moon silently rising above the trees across the lake.  It pays no mind whatsoever to anything happening on busy earth and will roll on regardless.  There’s something both reassuring and lonely about that.  The definition of permanence.  And guess what…I didn’t get a picture of it.

 

 

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