I love a full, silvery winter moon against an icy-cold, inky-blue, clear sky. Its 

radiance sparkling upon freshly falling snow makes me want to stop–urgently–to 

“watch the meadow fill” just like my old friend, Robert Frost… and to gaze upon the 

moonlight sparkle-play upon the “downy frost.” There is dancing when the nighttime 

skylight shines its muted glory upon the snowy pristine. Yes, there is always dancing.

Moonlight is not the luster of noonday, but the shine of distant angel-light, utterly

ethereal and utterly dreamy. Once on a still night, as I stepped out into the frosty 

night, I am sure that I felt the warmth of the moon upon my skin–down to the bones of my

very heart–and it burned–for a twinkle, like the noonday sun in its fiery, magnetic wonder. 

Bonnie Saul Wilks