As we watched the lunar eclipse Monday night, I joked with Phillip that I could see our two shadows on top of the earth’s up there too.
We had walked down our sidewalk to get out from behind the trees. A few of our neighbors were already outside, sitting in yards, leaning over balconies, or standing on the sidewalk like us. No one said much. They greeted us or just smiled. One commented “Crazy, huh?” And it was. A lot of the people I used to know have moved out, and I haven’t really gotten to know this new crowd yet. But there we were, hanging out together outside at midnight, craning our necks to watch the shadow of the planet we were standing on eclipse the moon.
I felt a sense of community with our neighborhood that I hadn’t in a long time.
I remember looking at the moon the first time I travelled outside the country. It almost felt strange how it looked exactly the same when so much around me seemed a little off. But there it was, on its journey across the skies of the world, tugging at the oceans, moving through its same phases.
This week a lot of people in a lot of places were looking up at it in the same moment – from sidewalks and balconies, through windows and telescopes – like one huge, sprawling neighborhood.
Whether you saw it or not, we all cast a shadow across the moon.