On a night like this, the farm's name made sense.
The moon hovered on the horizon holding a deep golden hue. The contrast was striking against the deep navy sky.
I darted inside to find my good camera with the dogs clamoring on my heels. Not having any formal photography training, trying to get "the shot" is dance with lady luck.
The photo that resulted was one I won't soon forget. A small bud on a low branch of a Buckeye tree silhouetted against the moon. It marks the turn of cold nights into frosty mornings and eventually spring. It is both exhilarating and overwhelming due to everything we need to get done. But for a moment, Moon Grove Farm made sense. And felt right.