As the longest day gives way to the twilight of the Summer Solstice, I find myself standing at Cape Disappointment State Park in Washington. The rugged cliffs embrace me, and the rhythmic crash of waves below is a soothing lullaby. The air carries a salty tang, a reminder of the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean stretching beyond the horizon.
In this monochromatic world, the lighthouse stands sentinel. Its stoic form, weathered by time and storms, is a testament to resilience. The black-and-white palette accentuates its stark beauty—the contrast between light and shadow, hope and solitude.
And then there’s the Moon.
This summer solstice moonrise is no ordinary celestial event. It ascends with deliberate grace, casting a silvery glow upon the landscape. Its ethereal presence transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary. The lighthouse, a symbol of guidance and hope, becomes a beacon not only for ships at sea but also for wayward travelers seeking direction. In this moment, the moon and the lighthouse seem to communicate in a language only they understand—a silent understanding that transcends human comprehension.
A Cosmic Dance
The moon and the lighthouse engage in a silent dance—a cosmic waltz. Moonlight spills across the water, creating a shimmering path toward infinity. I raise my camera to capture this fleeting moment. The shutter clicks, freezing time.
In this stillness, I’m connected to the Earth, the sky, and the universe. The moon whispers secrets, and the lighthouse nods in understanding, sharing stories of sailors who’ve navigated treacherous waters, seeking refuge in their guiding light.
Witness to Magic
As the night deepens, I remain rooted. The moon continues its ascent, and I become a witness to magic. The solstice moonrise etches a memory—a quiet symphony of elements harmonizing. In this moment, I am filled with profound wonder and reverence, sensing that feeling is part of something much larger than myself. And so I stand here, a mere mortal, humbled by the grandeur of existence. The moon, the lighthouse, and I are all part of this cosmic ballet.
I find color in this black-and-white frame—the hues of wonder, awe, and reverence. The moon’s silvery glow transforms the landscape, painting it with a soft light. The lighthouse now seems to shimmer with a hint of silver, mirroring the moon’s radiance.
As the moon reaches its zenith, I whisper my profound gratitude to the universe for this moment of connection and solstice night.
Further Readings:
Moon Over the Space Needle, Seattle, Washington
