North-East Scottish coast, Saturday 7th March 2026
The waning moon hung deep orange in the dark velvet sky, reflecting in flame-like ripples across the indigo sea. I thought of Saharan dust, but also the dust filled skies of Tehran, with burning oil replacing the sunlight, rain thick and black.
It was a beautiful day, with a clear spring-blue sky and the sea shining aquamarine. A sharp cool breeze along the coast but sheltered in the wooded valley. Celandines and primroses stretching to the sunlight, birdsong filling the air, the brown soil rich and crumbly as we weeded the herb garden. We talked about Beirut, immediate evacuation orders to a population the size of Sheffield, the bombing reminiscent of Gaza. The surreality of sitting here in the sunshine with our coffee and cake.
The waning moon hanging burnt orange left room for the stars in the deep velvet sky as I walked down the brae. Opening the pain of the ones I’ve lost to merge with the countless unknowns, the privilege of life in this infinite vastness, and still what of Gaza, Sudan, Ukraine and nobody talking of climate change in the carbon choked skies. The military prepped for Armageddon with Trump anointed to bring Christ’s second coming. And the moon shimmered gold on the indigo sea.
The full moon a Blood moon in Asia and the Americas, the total lunar eclipse bending sunlight to cast a rusty red glow. But here it’s the moon’s proximity to the horizon, where the earth’s atmosphere scatters the shorter wavelengths of blue, leaving the longer red and orange tones to colour the moon. Atmospheric conditions can also affect this: Saharan dust and oil filled plumes? But the waning moon rose to silver that night, indifferent as the stars pricking through infinite darkness.
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