Harvest Moon, the Sense of Wonder, and a Place called Trinity

Harvest Moon

Last week driving up the East Coast I stopped at a place called Trinity. That isn't the opening line of a not very good novel; there is a village of that name north of Brechin. I stopped to look at the moon, rising over harvest fields and took this photo.

The word magic has debased currency as an adjective for anything enjoyable – they were, however, a few minutes of wonder at the serene beauty looking over several fields of half-lit harvest under a rising moon.

I drove home with the moon on my right, and over Stonehaven reflecting on the North Sea, a vivid precise paintbrush stroke of creamy white rippled by a gentle sea. It isn't a road where you can easily stop, so that particular image is captured in memory rather than digital chip.

I got home at 9.25 and took this picture – a souvenir of an evening where wonder and stillness retain the power to lift the heart in thanksgiving for a beautiful world.