Moondance

An Apostle Island postcard

There is a moon out this morning as I untether the Little Dipper -- a silver sliver of moon that hangs above the masts like a celestial anchor light. I’ve seen gatherings around campfires to welcome the full moon, dancers in a kind of moon-maddened frenzy but who dances beneath the crescent moon? Everyone knows the full moon but how many can name the other seven phases each with their own magic in the full cycle known as a “lunation”? Why don’t we gather to celebrate the quarter moon or the new moon?

The stars seem constant, eternal, unchanging. A falling star is a fleeting spark in the sky. The moon dances, each phase - from waxing crescent to waning gibbous — is like another step in that dance, keeping the rhythm of things, reminding us of the wisdom in patience, in waiting for that inevitable change to come.

Maybe dancing under the crescent moon doesn’t have the same primal attraction. Maybe the half moon doesn’t bring out the lunacy in us that the full moon rising makes us feel. But it is all a part of the same dance. And so this morning I let the Little Dipper drift a few extra moments before I throttle up after clearing the break wall, feeling the sway and dip of the waves beneath her, a kind of moon dance all my own, all alone beneath the blue crescent moon.

— Jeff Rennicke (all photography by the author unless otherwise noted).

These Apostle Islands postcards every Sunday are an offshoot of the “Little Dipper” blog. Paid subscribers to the blog also receive an original, full-length illustrated essay delivered right to their inbox every Wednesday. Subscribe. Come along for the ride aboard the “Little Dipper.”