From our vardo in the woods it was easy to believe the hazy cloud cover would cloak Mahealani. We lingered, hesitant to leave the warm futon. According to the chart the moon would rise at around 6:20. The cellphone read 6:05. "Let's go," Pete finally said still holding his favorite deck of cards. He had quietly wanted, and waited all day long for this rising; "Mahealani is the most beautiful name."
Mahealani rises just after the sun sets. We couldn't see any sign of ka la's set from our wooden canopy of a home. But we climbed into the Subaru dressed for cool temperatures and hoped that the sky would be clear.
Mahealani rewarded us with this ...
A great dark and open sky opens above the land here at The Tilth. This is our ma uka (upland) moon spot. The Sunlight Beach shore, our ma kai (at the beach) spot.
Mahealani rises just after the sun sets. We couldn't see any sign of ka la's set from our wooden canopy of a home. But we climbed into the Subaru dressed for cool temperatures and hoped that the sky would be clear.
Mahealani rewarded us with this ...
A great dark and open sky opens above the land here at The Tilth. This is our ma uka (upland) moon spot. The Sunlight Beach shore, our ma kai (at the beach) spot.
Through our farmer friend Jody Crane's farm stand the glazy halo of light around Mahealani framed the common magic of a moon rising ma uka (up mountain) at the South Whidbey Tilth grounds |
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