Sometimes it is exactly this time of the winter season when during the early evening hours the moon merely hangs there. Just dangling beneath the night sky like a low-hanging fruit up for grabs. A circular slice of light being reflected backwards in time. Movement so powerfully slow that the passing arc is seen to change if one stares long enough and imagines it. So close that one can almost touch the sphere's jagged and cratered surface if only humanity could concentrate hard and long enough.