Linda at Teacher Dance wrote about the full moon inthis post, which reminded me of the following.
One August in the late 80s I was spending time sailing through the San Juan Islands, an archipelago in northern Washington boarding Canada. Don't think of this as a plush trip, I was at YMCA Camp Orkila sailing a 21 foot Venture and a 25 foot double masted wood boat that was originally a life boat. The boats were powered either by the wind or by oars; two people for the Venture and four for the bigger boat.
Days were spent on the open water or exploring the beach and woods of the islands. Camping had its own adventures. Fresh water was available at most State Parks, or brought with us when we were on the island camp owned, Satellite or some of the other camping spots we used. Outhouses and open pit toilets where our amenities everywhere. All meals prepared over a fire or stove with food we carried with us. The two biggest challenges to keeping our food stores were deer, which so many tourists fed they were more like dogs, and the very determined raccoons. We considered a night successful when we were able to keep the food safe without having to take it all back out to the boats.
I spent most of two Augusts this way. There are many moments that will always stay with me; the porpoises that bumped our bow and then swam with us, loads of government peanut butter sandwiches, rowing for hours and barely making headway, a huge storm the overtook us on one crossing, the view from the double seater open-air outhouse, lots of songs, stories, and laughter, and this evening.
I was sitting on the beach, reading a book with my flashlight when the full moon rose. The brightness of it demanded my attention and I watched it rise over the beauty of the land. After spending quite a while enjoying the glow of the huge orb, it seemed so much larger than any moon should ever be, I realized it was so bright I could read by it, which is what I did.