There is a hillside slope that plunges into the icy waters overlooking Homer, Alaska that shared a special moment with me in the spring of 1997. As the hours of the clock ticked by, deceitful to the time the sky did tell, for light still shown at now 11:00 in the night when all Nature should be abed. I arose from my napping to capture what had been hinted to me the night before- a full moonrise like I had never witnessed before. Pale yet golden, the queen of nighttime shades rose from her slumber across the bay and spit. Her climb above the towering monoliths of snow capped peaks was effortlessly steady as she danced seductively with the setting ruler of the day who mischievously blushed her. The night was still, as a sleeping babe, just softly breathing life in the innocent beauty of youth. Before the moment was lost, I scurried to the hilltop where to my face shown the cool moon and to my back glowed warm the sun. It was marvelous! One of those splendid visages just glimpsed in a passing moment and yet eternal, as if time did stop to ponder the site with me; amazed. The glassy bay reflected the fullness of the night's light without ripple or crease and the forest boughs glinted and shimmered in the departure of the sun. My camera; my ever-ready friend, captured the waxen satellite in all her glory and the photo rests eternally in the scribbled pages of my journal. But only one side could my friend see, for that is the distressing limit of film. So etched deeply in my heart's tablet is the intimate dance of these two upon the hilltop in Homer, where night and day can mingle, sharing with each other the wonders of different-sameness.

Gail Boysen is a regular contributor to Get Lost Magazine. These days she likes to say the word "fiancé" frequently.