I return often to the rising moon. I am draw especially when events crowd ease and clarity of vision into a small corner of my life. This happens often in the fall. Then I go to my hill and await the hunter' s moon， enormous and gold over the horizon， filling， the night with vision.
An owl swoops from the ridge top， noiseless but bright as flame. A cricket shrills in the grass. I think of poets and musicians. Of Beethoven' s "Moonlight Sonata" and of Shakespeare， whose Lorenzo declaims in The Merchant of Venice， "How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank！ /Here will we sit and let the sounds of music/Creep in our ears." I wonder if their verse and music， like the music of crickets， are in some way voices of the moon. With such thoughts， my citified confusions melt into the quiet of the night.
Lovers and poets find deeper meaning at night. We are all apt to pose deeper questions — about our origins and destinies. We indulge in riddles， rather than in the impersonal geometries that govern the daylight world. We become philosophers and mystics.
At moonrise， as we slow our minds to the pace of the heavens， enchantment steals over us. We open the vents of feeling and exercise parts of our minds that reason locks away by day. We hear， across the distances， murmurs of ancient hunter and see anew the visions of poets and lovers of long ago.
有一座小山就坐落在我家附近，我常常會在夜間去爬山。到了山上，城市裏的嘈雜就會變成遠方的低語。在安靜的黑夜裏，我能夠感覺到蟋蟀的歡樂和貓頭鷹的自信。不過，看月出才是我爬山的目的，重新找回在城市中輕易就迷失的那種寧靜與純真。
在小山上，我看過很多次月出。每次月出都是各有風情，不盡相同。秋日裏，圓圓的月亮露出豐收的自信；春風中，月亮灰蒙蒙地表達著羞澀；冬日裏，冰輪般的月亮孤獨地懸在漆黑的空中；夏日中，橘黃色的月亮朦朦朧朧地俯瞰著幹燥的田野。每一種月亮都似精美的音樂，感動我的心靈，撫慰我的靈魂。