I watched the full moon rise over the ocean to the east. It rose glowing like the sun, but even as it grew brighter and brighter it chased away the daylight. From my perch on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea, I saw the craters and canyons on the moon form shadows in the shape of a rabbit; under the Southern Cross, the “Man in the Moon” does not appear until the moon has passed its peak height in the sky.

My breath always catches when the first sliver of lunar luminescence peaks above the horizon. Time and time again the moon has risen over the water but each time it does, I sigh with relief that the world’s transfiguration has not yet affected the orb that guides my way each night. Time and time again I have watched the moon rise over the water but each time I have watched it, I have been a different person with different thoughts, feelings and emotions to the last time I stared over the waves.

I watched the moon rise over the ocean and relaxed as a single constant floated over my world of continual change.