Sandy, Bedfordshire: We have lost our connection with the moon’s illuminating presence so, in a candle-snuffing breeze, I head out into the fields
The front door clicks shut and the night is on a dipped headlight, half a circle of moon hanging in an overcast sky. Clouds scud across its face like wood smoke, light sheep’s wool wisps alternating with darker shades, as if the moon were fleetingly cloaked in a thick black muslin veil. Two nights ago it played peekaboo, disappearing for a few seconds at a time into murky clouds that presaged rain, before winking into life again. Tonight, however, it is a constant, despite the interruptions.
Just as most of us are oblivious to its role as the instigator of tides, so we have lost our connection with the moon’s illuminating presence. How many even recall that it’s also out by day, sometimes a complete disk against a blue sky, outshone by the sun and greyed out like an unavailable option on a computer screen?