I like the moon. A lot. Moonlight, for me, is enchanting. Moonwatching has been a life long obsession for me.

My mother told me that when I was a baby, she had me sleeping in bed with her, and she wome up in the middle of the night. It was a full moon and a clear night, and there was a big patch of moonlight on the bed. Baby me was awake, not crying or anything, just staring at the moon.

And thus has been my life. Often when the moon is bright, I will wake up in the night. If it is because of the light, of moon magic, or a full moon's effect on my brain fluids, I don't know. I just wake up, and I get up and I stalk about in the near dark. (I've had some nasty experiences with objects which don't have a permanent spot this way. The vacuum cleaner, for instance, and the chairs in the kitchen are well acquainted with my shins, knees and feet.)

In every house I've lived in there's been at least one room which has the right windows to fill up with moon light. And it is beautiful. I'm not saying sunlight isn't beautiful, no, late afternoon sun has a warm, comforting nature to it. Moonlight though... ahh, moonlight, it is just so ethereal. Thus, while sunlight can be pretty, and beautiful, it cannot be fae.

Moonlight slides across floors. Moonlight makes things near color, but not quite. Moonlight lights clouds up from behind and changes their edges to white fire. The sun behind a cloud is dreary. The moon behind a cloud is a spiritual experience.

Moonlight on a snowscape -- indescribable! A clear night, a full moon, several feet of snow and you don't need a flashlight. A night like that you could go skiing, skating, whatever, because the moon is bright enough that shadows really look dark.

A summer moon isn't nearly as much fun.In moonlight, snow sparkles and turns to faerie dust. I cannot sleep straight through a moonlit, winter night.