There seem to be two moons now, the one I see in my back yard and the one I remember from up close. Intellectually, I know they are one and the same, but emotionally they are separate entities. The small moon, the one I have known all my life, remains unchanged, except that I now know it is three days away. The new one, the big one, I remember primarily for its vivid contrast with the earth. I really didn’t appreciate the first planet until I saw the send one. the moon is so scarred, so desolate, so monotonous, that I cannot recall its tortured surface without thinking of the infinite variety the delightful planet earth offers: misty waterfalls, pine forests, rose gardens, blues and greens and reds and whites that are missing entirely on the gray-tan moon.
Michael Collins, Carrying the Fire (via downlookingup)

(via lightthiscandle)

Notes

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