Under Moonlight

by Joan Handrich

I could get there by walking out the gate behind my house. I never went in the summer-time but in the winter, after a few weeks of snow storms, when dusk was coming and the winter air was still and the stars were close and sharp I walked on the toes of my white leather ice skates to keep from falling on the bumpy wind scorched frozen path until I reached the smooth blue-black stream, threw my arms forward and let myself go. I passed under trees topped by inches of sparkling snow. Icicles hung from elbows of oaks. I could glide there alone following the meanders of the stream and if I was really, really lucky, there would be a big full moon.

The Author

Joan Handrich is a 69-year-old great-grandmother who lives in Napa, California. She takes writing courses just for fun (and also took a physics course for fun!). She says that she's racing to keep up with her six very talented children!