I sat alone parked on a country road on a chilly Nebraska night and watched the Lunar eclipse. It was a serene and beautiful night. I don’t suppose many are willing to venture out on a weeknight at 2 a.m. just to watch and capture a few pictures of the moon but I had the time and the desire. It was well worth the effort. I drove to the outskirts of town and found a lonely hill to perch on. Behind me I had a gorgeous view of the Omaha skyline and in front of me a dark field with a red moon glowing overhead. I bundled up in my winter Barn coat and hat. I noticed there was still a bit of snow left along the dirt road from the weekend’s spring snowstorm and I shivered as I took in the view. I snapped a few shots of the eclipse every few minutes. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to capture the moon and I had to fumble with the settings on my Olympus quite a bit. I’m new to photography and am realizing I have a lot to learn. I didn’t want this outing to be all about getting the perfect shot but more about enjoying the experience so I put “Ms. Perfectionist” aside and just went with the flow. I listened to the sounds of the night. I could hear an owl in the distance and the faint sound of an occasional car on the highway below. I breathed in the night air and felt totally at peace. I have no fear of the countryside. Odd that I felt safer there than in my backyard in the city. There is something about stargazing and moon watching that always soothes my soul. I remember once I playfully invited my then husband to come out on a gorgeous summer evening and watch the stars with me – he looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. He shook his head and told me no as he went back to watching tv. Disappointed I went out to our backyard filled with flowers and fireflies and watched alone. I’ve done a lot of stargazing alone since then. I think of all the millions of people gazing at the moon tonight and I wonder what they are all thinking. It’s hard not to feel a bit lonely and insignificant under such a magnificent sky. It’s hard to not want to share it with someone. Yet I have hope that somewhere out there someone is looking up thinking the same thing. Somewhere someone gets that same feeling by looking at the stars that I do and would rather look at a night sky holding my hand than a television any night of the week. Someone who will spontaneously grab my hand to experience life with me and we can count stars together. Until that time I am not afraid to drive out on a gravel road at 2 a.m and find my own moments of peace and happiness. Here’s to the next Lunar Eclipse and hope!