The world was eerily washed in orange light that can only be described as primeval. A campfire crackled behind me. I could hear the hiss and pop of logs burning and smell the earthy, spicy aroma that only accompany a campfire. Only hushed voices could be heard. No one wanted to disturb the nearly sacred moment.
The full moon hung in the sky, making the world look like daylight. It looked larger than normal, big enough to be intimidating, like it was too heavy for the sky and had begun to sink toward the earth. The sky seemed smaller than usual, as if for once in my life I could pick it up and carry around in my backpack. A few illuminated clouds scuttled across the night, breaking up the monotony of the volcanic-orange sky. The light from the moon had nearly erased all stars from the sky; old man moon wasn't sharing the show that night.
The lake glistened, as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the sky and the forest that encroached on its edges. The trees could be seen upside down like jagged arrows boring into the lake’s reflection. Insects chirped. Bullfrogs sang their song in the night, earthy belches that provide a stark contrast to the lake’s gracefulness. Tall grasses and reeds marched before me to the lake’s edge like soldiers going to war.
My mind felt at peace. Anna stood beside me, staring at everything all at once just like I was. The people around us seemed to disappear and it was just us. Comrades. Together we soaked in the beauty. I committed every detail to memory, not wanting to forget a single detail; the smells, the sounds, the feel, the taste. I can still see it in my mind’s eye to this day.
I love moments like that when the entire glory of nature hits you full in the face. When you have no option but to stand in awe, breathless. Those are the moments that I am glad that I don’t often carry a camera. Sometimes it’s better to just experience moments than to capture them. 
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