Shoot the moon

Having finished all my work for the week I was sitting in my cubicle willing the clock to tick faster and perusing the interwebs for story ideas and such.

And I came across this.

Which led me to search for a way to handle it, and I found this.

And realized that the lens that I had with me was way too short for this kind of action.

So I asked the photo editor if he could lend me something a little longer. He said sure, told me he was busy at the moment but would get me something as soon as he could.

My God.

He walked up to me with a hard shell suitcase.

"I think this might work," he said.

This is what he gave me...

I felt like a little kid. I was playing with firecrackers and he handed me a bomb.

I pulled the big boy out and set it on the table. I had to attach my camera to it rather than attach it to my camera. The thing has to weigh damn near ten pounds.

I hefted the hand cannon to my eye and shakily aimed it at the cold night.

There it was, a veined rocky disc floating golden in space reflecting the sun, traveling through 500mm of glass to the holes in my head triggering processes that sent chemicals through me, chemicals that felt like love and Christmas.

Before the camera came out myself and the some staff of the St. Petersburg Times were watching from our office windows as the moon pulled up past the horizon line, nothing more than a pink crescent, a half eye watching eager weekenders scurry home.

One of the writers, taken by the beauty said in sincerity, "It kind of makes you think that everything might be all right, it really does."

I think so too.

What do you think?