It’s one of those nights when the moon casts a shadow

It's one of those nights when the moon casts a shadow. Many shadows.

Everyone walks with a faint splash of no-color blue fanning out behind them.

I'd love to be out of this town, out of any town on this night. Moonlight on corn. Eek.

I bet its beautiful down in the desert tonight. That evening sweeping-out of the day's just-stale air has happened and the new air has settled over the canyon rivers. Rode in on wind that chases the setting sun over the horizon. In from the Colorado and New Mexico mountains, out toward the Pacific, carrying the dust and the seeds and the tumbling tumbleweeds and the dried, shiel-shaped Manzanita leaves with it.

The sun pulls the water in the ocean, too, but not as much as the moon does.

This just-waning moon, casting hazy shadows through the dank air that came up after yesterday's storms and might, maybe, leave with the morning dew.