With the leaves falling and the deer fattened, it is time to hunt. Since the fields have been reaped, hunters can easily see fox and other animals, which have come out to glean. The first full Moon after the Harvest Moon, the full Hunter's Moon (the Full Moon nearest the Autumnal equinox), gets its name from hunters who tracked and killed their prey by autumn moonlight, stockpiling food for the winter ahead.

I prefer it's other name, the "Blood Moon". That could just be the writer in me. It's true that the leaves are falling, but that only means that the yard rake will get it's workout. Maybe the deer are fattened for the winter, but since the hunter in me departed years ago, that leaves me with nothing to desire but the moon itself. While others may still beat the bushes in search of food, I'm content on taking my stand in the back yard, with a different quarry in mind. Armed with nothing but a telescope, or my 20 x 80 binoculars. I will sit in wait for the rising lunar beast, on which I'll commence my assault.

Last night the moon rose above the trees washing out dim stars, and galaxies as it spread it's light throughout the sky. To the south, clouds gathered along the coast, but conceded the sky to the dominate moon. One small puffy cumulus dared to trek across the brilliant light source, and it separated into two smaller clouds as it passed over the lunar face, giving the appearance that the moon had burned the cloud in two; for challenging it's dominance.

With my 7 x 35 binos I scanned the face of the moon, but the naked eye view was just as inviting. I didn't bother with dragging out one of the telescopes, or even a camera to capture the beauty of our lunar neighbor. The true Hunter's Moon appears tonight, and that's the mark where I will take aim.

Well said, Kevin.  Here in 'white-tail heaven' the Hunter's Moon is no more than a glow behind the clouds this year.  Good luck with your hunt.

Very well said Kevin.

However in my neck of the woods the Blood Moon is a reality and not an abstract concept.

Nature has been the hunter in California with fire the preferred weapon.  Last night as the Moon arose it was a sick reddish orange as it strove to pierce the clouds of billowing smoke.  The hot and dry winds howled in hatred of everything living as the fire raced along seeking to destroy whatever it could.  I could not take out any telescopic equipment fearing the dust, ash, and flying debris that whipped at my clothing and hair. I would have spit in the eye of that baleful orb but lacked the moisture to do so.  All I could do was scream defiance at the mocking wind, but if it heard at all it did not care.  So after awhile I turned my back on the scene and retreated to the indoors where a restless night awaited.

Very well done and thanks for sharing while allowing me to do the same,

L