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Drawing Down the Strawberry Moon
Or so the Algonquins called the full moon in June, because it signaled the perfect time to harvest ripened strawberries.
Others called it the Rose Moon. The Mead Moon. And the Honey Moon.
Whatever you want to call it, last night was a full moon on the same day as the Summer Solstice for the first time since 1967 - and if I recall correctly, that one ushered in the Summer of Love.
Okay, that's not exactly how it went down in Woodstock this time around. But we were excited enough to stay an extra night in Woodstock, chasing this special moon. (And why not? Even the Google Doodle was in on the act. And I think we could all use another Summer of Love right now.)
Moonrise was at 7:42. We set out at 7:40 punctually, but drove fruitlessly up Ohayo across the Ashokan Reservoir in search of a viewpoint. But on our way back in dudgeon, we looked back over our shoulders to see this.
The moon didn't become visible from our terrace until nearly 10 at night - and then it was still just peeking through the trees.
But George persevered and won this clear shot at nearly eleven - exhibiting the honey color that lends this moon its nicknames of the Mead or Honey Moon.