Immutable Moon

When I wander through the woods, I note the scenery around me changing, as I approach and pass trees, wildflowers, and shrubs. The faster I walk, the faster the scenery changes. That's a big reason why I sometimes stroll slowly along: it gives me ample time to gaze at the passing wonders.

There's an interesting phenomenon (one we often pay no attention to) caused by my changing perspective, as I walk along: close, small objects (like shrubs) quickly pass and recede behind me, while distant, large objects (like trees) stay in my view for a longer time period. An extreme example of this phenomenon is looking at distant hills as I walk—it takes far longer to put them behind me... maybe all day!

But the ultimate examples of this perspective phenomenon are the Moon, the sun, and the stars. They are so far away that I could walk all day and all night long and they'd never move from their location in the sky. If, for example, the Moon is directly overhead tonight, I could even jump in the car and drive for hours in any direction and Mr. Moon would remain exactly overhead.

If we think about it for a moment, what I've been describing is obvious and even a little trivial sounding, but I have learned over the years to pause and give so-called obvious thoughts a second look. We humans have a tendency to become accustomed to common events, to the extent that we almost become oblivious to them. We don't allow them to show us something a little different that we've not noticed before. We can become jaded—been there, done that—let me move on to the next novelty.

I was slowed down and caught up by a fascinating perspective on this issue the other evening, when I took a few moments to pause and take another look at what happened when I saw the Moon. I stepped outside and casually noted where the Moon was hovering that evening, by noting where it was located in the upper branches of a nearby tree. Then I walked a few feet in a familiar direction, knowing unconsciously how my perspective of the overhead trees would change, when I looked up again. As I did, I was momentarily taken aback by the fact that the Moon hadn't moved with the trees. What I had expected—without really thinking about it—didn't happen: the trees fell behind me, but the Moon had not! It was keeping up with me.

When I was a kid I heard the expression, “The Moon is following me.” Of course, it doesn't.. it simply stays at the same location in the sky wherever one moves. As you pass trees and buildings, the Moon can't be passed up, no matter how fast or far we move. It just “keeps up” with us.

Another interesting example of this phenomenon is the moth that keeps circling a candle or streetlight. Evolution has taught the moth to use the immutable Moon as a guide when flying at night. Since the Moon stays at the same location, the moth can set course and fly a straight line from one point to another. But evolution did not prepare the moth for these late-comer humans, who build and install night lights. The poor moth keeps trying to keep the streetlight off to its left, but is forced to make circles around it, since it did not “keep up” with the moth.

It's nice to pause now and then and tune into what's really happening at the moment; to allow the everyday events to capture (or recapture) our attention and show us a fresh perspective. They may seem routine and mundane, but they can also bring us little surprises and fascinating reflections.