Distorted thus by the hot breath of earth， the moon seemed ill-tempered and imperfect. Dogs at nearby farmhouses barked nervously， as if this strange light had wakened evil spirits in the weeds.
But as the moon lifted off the ridge it gathered firmness and authority. Its complexion changed from red， to orange， to gold， to impassive yellow. It seemed to draw light out of the darkening earth， for as it rose， the hills and valleys below grew dimmer. By the time the moon stood clear of the horizon， full chested and round and the color of ivory， the valleys were deep shadows in the landscape. The dogs， reassured that this was the familiar moon， stopped barking. And all at once I felt a confidence and joy close to laughter.