I see the bright, brilliantly clear, off-white moon shining down on the calm, clear, picturesque (if I had my camera that is) day and it brings me back to Philmont, where I went hiking multiple times as a Boy Scout and eventually as an Eagle Scout. I am imagining myself back on top of Mt. Castilla (I think at least but could be Costilla, Castillo, Costillo or some variation similar to that) as the star-filled sky and the full moon begin to illuminate my walking path down off the mountain. See, we (the scout group and I) had hiked up from our campsite, about a mile away, when it was sunshine and happy times. Then after dinner and some good conversation, we sat there talking, and getting to know each other, counting shooting stars, satellites, planets (when there were 9) and constellations before having to head back down. However, there on top of the mountain, I realized that there is something more to the sky than just the stars, satellites, planets and constellations. It brings me to realize that, looking up into the sky I have found an awakening feeling in myself. It feels liberating knowing that I am the only person in my immediate family, and even extended family for that matter, to look at the stars -- these stars to be specific -- from this specific vantage point. I mean anyone can look at the stars but there will be no one in my family that will even be in the same section of the country to look at these particular stars. In fact, I know this now but I assumed it then, that I would be the only one in my family to even be in this part of New Mexico, on these Sangre De Cristo Mountains in the Northeast corner of New Mexico on an early August night. Some of my friends will and have experienced them as I do and they will be able to understand my feelings, but most will not. The most that they can compare this to would be sitting on a beach. I know I make it sound humble saying “a beach” since Cape Cod really does have a phenomenal collection of beaches but it still puts it into perspective. But seriously, the best they can do is under a full moon with a slight breeze looking up at the stars but never the same ones, never from the same angle, never being this isolated from the world where there are no house lights for miles or sounds other than primal. The only thing that they will ever see that compares to this would be the same moon just at a different time, different orbit, a different phase, a just plain different personality.
When I look up at this moon and onto the ice, which is the ocean of McMurdo Sound, I am again back to this same feeling. Of knowing that I am going to be the only person in my family that gets to see the moon from this vantage point, and as humble as everyone knows me to be, I am content with having these few singular memories that are all my own. Hopefully, someday I will be able to share them with my family, but maybe this time I am the teacher instead of the student.
About the picture:
This photo was taken near what we call derelict junction or DJ for short. DJ is the “bus stop” in McMurdo where you where you get dropped off after getting here for the 1st time in the season and where you wait for the shuttle to bring you to the airfield or to Scott Base. It looks back onto building 155 on the right in the blue and up into the “business district” of town with Crater Hill just being visible in the far background. There is a road, on what would be the right of the picture, and that is where you can see the crystal clear skies, ocean, and off-colored moon when it is visible.
Stay Frosty
-C
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