Water lapped at my ears.
A breeze arrived, late after a very hot day.
I looked up, allowed my pupils to dilate, and my eyes to open to the dim early night.
A bank of puffy clouds rose like mountains to my left, their cottony mass illuminated in other-worldly light.
Seeking the source of such brilliance, my eyes traveled to the right, and there, hidden behind a towering pine tree, was a half-moon, glowing the palest shade of lemon.
It turned another group of clouds a soft wintergreen color, a gloriously strange cross between lime and mint green, something that could never be duplicated, that must be enjoyed and looked upon at this one and only moment.
This was a summer night, filled with half a moon, and haunted by a fluttering bat.