My youngest child once told me the moon was closer here in the Pacific Northwest than in other parts of the world. That's why it's so big, she said.
Its sound is as beautiful as its size: full moon. Reading poetry this week, and my favorite line is complete with sound:
The moon hung orange as any sun
Just before it faces evening,
Like a flaming breast in the sky
Calling my name, and I walked out
Under it and rubbed the moonlight
All over my face and hands the way
The old folks used to do with sunlight
~ from The Night Richard Pryor Met Mudbone by A. Van Jordan
Jordan knows how to use the sounds of words, make the mundane beautiful, sensual, forbidden.
Have you ever fallen
Into the vowels on a dark
Woman's lips as she blew
A simple phrase like Good Morning
To a man she's just met?
Nothing, maybe, to the naked ear,
But close your eyes and listen
To the dark sounds rounded
Off in the shadows of her mouth—
There lies the secret to end
~ from Morena by A. Van Jordan
Cup your hands and press some moonlight to your face on a night like this. Breathe it in. You can do this here where the moon is so much closer.