I lived in the green rolling hills and valleys of rural Tennessee, and when the moon was full on temperate nights, I would hop in my car, roll down the windows, and put on some deep, dark, tranquil music like Patrick O’Hearn, or perhaps Ottmar Liebert’s Opium and go on a long, long, aimless drive through the valleys near my home. The land glowed with that beautiful, colorless, dream-like ambience that only a bright full moon can diffuse. I think we’ve all had dreams that look just like a valley does bathed in that unique dark light.
When I lived in Chimayo for a Summer in 1987 I would often drive home very late at night. During Full Moon nights I would sometimes turn my headlights off between Nambe and Chimayo and drive by the very bright moonlight…
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