A beautiful three-quarter moon rose well before dusk last evening. Glorious. A few thin clouds drifted across the sky as it shone just above the branches of our big spruce tree.

Just before dark, Randa and I went out onto the back patio to relax a while. We soon had a nice fire going in the portable fire pit. We love sitting out there and watching the flames flickering and, later, the coals glowing. The colors and patterns are constantly changing and are always entertaining. Sometimes, we listen to music. Sometimes, we talk. Sometimes, we just sit and watch the fire.

After a while, I needed to go out to the garage for a quick errand. By then, it was dark. As I walked around the house, I stepped into the full glow of the moon. Clear sky, cool night. I easily followed the path toward the garage. With my little old Ford Ranger parked right in the shadows of the birch tree near the front of the garage, I had to watch not to bump into it. Its navy-blue color blended right into the darkness.

Just before I got to the truck, I noticed the motion of shadows on the concrete in front of me. “That’s weird,” I thought, “There shouldn’t be any shadows there.”

I stood still for a moment, then realized that the shadows were from my legs. Since the birch tree was blocking the moon, I knew that couldn’t be the source. There aren’t any yard lights or streetlights around that could cause those shadows. Even though I knew that, I still looked around behind me. Nope, no yard lights or streetlights.

I stepped over and back. Yep, shadows of my legs clearly showing on the concrete. “Well,” I concluded, “there’s a pretty simple way to solve this mystery.”

I crouched down low and turned around, looking toward the opposite direction of the shadows. I kneeled even lower and moved a few feet closer to the house. Mystery solved!

High up on the third level of our old house, the moon reflected brightly from the attic window. Brightly enough to cast shadows in the shadow of the birch trees by the garage.

Somehow, I’ve managed to live in rural places and other spaces for nearly seventy years without ever having noticed shadows cast by a reflected moon. If I’d gone out to the garage ten minutes earlier or ten minutes later, I’d still have not seen them. If I hadn’t been looking carefully at the ground, I wouldn’t have seen them. If the leaves had been gone from the trees, if it had been cloudy, if…

I marvel from time to time about the way that timing has to be so precise in order for us to witness a particular event, phenomenon, appearance, or whatever. Whether by deliberate design or happy circumstance, whether by intense seeking or blissful coincidence.

But no matter how fortuitous the timing, it doesn’t matter what wonders surround us unless we keep our eyes open.