Henry's Moon
by Tom O'Malley
The rhetoric of a summer evening on a clear night in July. The stars winked on one by one, and I could see the mythic procession of constellations as they marched across the sky. Orion gripping his shield; the Pleiades sisters huddling close. Bright Jupiter holding court over this galactic panorama. And then the moon rose brilliantly in the east. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. Time and space carried me back.
In July of 1969, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin set foot on the moon after landing their spacecraft near the Sea of Tranquility. They spent 23 hours exploring the landing area, taking pictures and studying the desolate landscape. Their historic excursion was witnessed by millions who became fellow sojourners as they bounced along the lunar surface. We all felt free from the constraints of gravity lifted by our common humanity. It seemed the entire planet was unified as we tagged along . For a few days the normal gravity of life seemed lightened. I don't think anyone slept through the adventure in my south Buffalo home. Every phase of the mission, from liftoff to landing was a new discovery, and we were with them all the way.
In July of 1851, Henry David Thoreau became a lunar explorer inspired by the beauty of its light and its effect upon the landscape near his home in Concord, Massachusetts. Thoreau called the moon his “mistress of the night, full orbed/ shining steadily.” Those summer evenings spent walking under her sensuous glow transformed familiar landscapes into unexplored territories where trees became “chandeliers of darkness.” Their branches created trellised shadows adding to the evening mystery and recharged his joy with borrowed light. In this night time world, Henry's senses sharpened as he reported clearly hearing voices from miles off mixed with the music of frogs and chirping crickets that enthralled his imagination. Indeed, as he walked Henry felt his creator was improving him as the lunar light filtered through his eyes and directly into his soul.
One hundred and eighteen years later, Neal and Buzz carefully surveyed this new world by photographing and analyzing lunar craters and boulders around their base near the Sea of Tranquility. They collected rocks and carefully recorded surface temperatures and soil samples. They explored the moon and described the stark surroundings as “magnificent desolation.” Both men were transformed by the experience of seeing the earth from the moon, and we earthly observers began to see the moon in a new light that forever changed the perception of ourselves and our place in the universe.
For Henry the full moon at night seemed to heighten his senses. Familiar places became strange and mysterious. Under its auspices, the puzzling pieces of life became unified through time and space. The moon was a portal through time which elevated his soul to experience the transcendent wonders of space exploration. And even though Henry only lived for forty-four years, the metaphysical weight of his lunar explorations seemed to add years of experience to his brief life.
Today, I still find myself looking up at the moon with a sense of wonder and understanding. I love to track its phases as it grows and diminishes. For the Apollo moonwalkers, their journeys seemed like a prelude to the infinite voyage of humankind through the galaxy. The night sky reminds us of this. It offers a larger context for our dreams. Henry Thoreau might agree, for on evenings like these, he stood shoulder to shoulder with Homer on a Grecian hill overlooking the Aegean depths of a life well lived. And when we read his books, we stand right there with him.
