I was standing beside a bay in the middle of a city, leaning on a railing with a pair of binoculars, checking my watch for the third time. Moonrise had come and gone — at least on paper — but the eastern horizon was a mess of low cloud and distant rooftops. Nothing.
It's a familiar frustration for moon-gazers. You've done the planning, arrived early and picked your spot, but there's always a moment of doubt about whether you forgot some small detail. I kept scanning, sweeping slowly along the skyline, trying to second-guess where it might break through. Did I get the date wrong?!
