This bloody Super Moon from a few weeks ago was kind enough to pause as it changed from a ghostly white to a reddish Mars-like hue. It still just appears as a tiny speck, but I caught it as it was beginning to turn into this shade of red, like some blood cell as seen through a microscope. The camera, and my unsteady hand, don’t always manage to get a decent moon shot (other than my over-exposed ass) so this is the best we could both muster. You get the idea.
Around such full moons, I tend to lay low, if possible. There is too much charged air to ruffle feathers than can normally take it, and far less room for mayhem if you keep still and quiet. I learned long ago that it’s sometimes better to hold your tongue than unleash it, particularly at the wrong time. There is power in silence, and power in peace, even when there’s blood on the moon.
