The Blue Moon rose on July 31, 2015. This astrological wonder hadn’t occurred since 2012 and won’t varnish the sky with its indigo face again until 2018. To my delight, the early hours of the "morning after" presented a celestial show that will have to sustain me until I can witness it again.

I’m an early riser - very early. On August 1, I woke up without the alarm around 4:15 am, drank a big glass of water and with my dog Sookie still curled up next to me in bed, read two chapters of Anne LaMott’s "Traveling Mercies." Her work reminds me to view the world differently, to infuse every breath with spirituality and to flip my inner inspiration switch on. I hopped out of bed after the daybreak dose of literature with the goal of meeting the sunrise.

I prepared a French Press full of tea to enjoy later and the Sook and I headed out for our walk. As I turned to lock the front door I was besieged with a feeling of awakening to a different locale than I had slumbered in the night before.

I had noticed the temperature was predicted to fall into the 60’s overnight, so I turned off the A/C, which I never keep below 80 anyway. I recalled how I slept in silence for the first time in weeks, sans the rattle and hum of the ancient HVAC unit that cools and heats our home. The snap of chilled air greeted me as I stood on my porch, turning the key to bolt the door. A thought danced across my consciousness; how nice it would be to live in a world or at least a city where you didn’t have to lock the doors. The next thought abruptly cut in as I realized that utopia was either very far behind or so way far ahead of me that I would probably never experience it in my lifetime.

But, something today felt different. The vibe felt singular, yet somehow recognizable. The seasons were shifting again, or at least summer seemed to be sequestering herself. The climate felt somehow more familiar to me than the oppressively hot summer days I had been enduring with forced enthusiasm. I was gamely embracing the no makeup look, wearing minimal clothing and rocking a width of curls inflated by a percentage of humidity that matched the temperature digits. But, this morning my hair hung limp and flat. I had to wear a sweatshirt. I inhaled the cooler air deliberately and we headed out for our trek.

We walked on the street that borders the side of our house towards the street behind it – our usual morning route. Then, like when a cartoon character "sees stars," a glowing, lavender-ish light got caught in the uppers of my peripheral vision. Its hue was so peculiar it startled me; my breath was actually taken away. I gasped and held my breath. The Blue Moon still hung in the early morning sky. She was more periwinkle than indigo, and looked aqueous, like the regular moon had been filled with the liquid inside a light purple-bluish glow stick and someone had snapped it, igniting its temporary glow. I suddenly understood Sherwin Williams’ popular Languid Blue shade. I exhaled.

I quickly took the turn to pursue my lunar prey, motivated like a child chasing a ball that got away. I noticed that Sookie, usually ten paces ahead - walking me, instead strode calmly by my side, a willing accomplice on this mission. I was magnetized toward the Blue Moon just as if she was running toward me in return, in anticipation of a long awaited embrace. I got out my phone and snapped photos incapable of capturing this moment of beauty. I realized the fault in trying to preserve a moment in digital time that could not be framed on a computer or phone screen nearly as majestically as it would be hung on the wall in my mind – like a prized trophy, my award for just being there, for being present today at this exact time, for existing right now - in this brief moment.

I became dazed by my physical position in space; it was like a spatial trick was being played on me, instigated by the cerulean cast of this special lunar bulb. I became confused as to what planet I was on. Really. I questioned where I was standing in this universal arrangement. I tried to recall the model of the solar system. Maybe I was gazing into a mirror at the earth? I giggled nervously at the thought and reminded myself of the name of this magical moon, her blueness playing an early morning joke on me. But, just in case, I had to hunt her, I had to keep gawking. So with my chin pointed skyward, eyes staring upward into what appeared to be a reflection, I pushed forward to find out more.

I picked up my pace and pranced toward the Blue Moon and observed that as I moved further West and got "closer," the incandescent orb seemed to be sinking slowly from her perch in the atmosphere. I was struck with the transient nature of time, the impermanence of everything in the universe and the constant evolution of each moment. Nothing ever stays the same.

Suddenly, it was as if God had decided to redecorate my view, to take down a piece of art from the walls that surround the divine kingdom. The Blue Moon disappeared.

My steps slowed, but relief filled my soul and a smile crossed my lips as the Blue Moon reappeared, a radiant sapphire only hidden momentarily by the lumbering trees, old-timer trees so tragically vulnerable to new construction in my neighborhood.

I felt overwhelmingly blessed to have been an observer to this moment, but knew the imminent sunrise was threatening to obliterate the exhibition altogether. I turned the corner to let my back face the Blue Moon, to let her descend into her three-year sleep with privacy and peace.

As I turned once again to head home, a pool of pastel, orange sherbet light puddled at the top of the tree line. Dawn was soon to win out over darkness - as it always does. The sun was rising, counterbalancing in the heavens with the Blue Moon.

I realized I had just born witness to two simultaneous miracles; the end of a night lit by a Blue Moon and the dawn of a new day radiated by an exuberant First of August sun. I had watched the two spheres hanging out together like old pals over a cup of serenely fragrant tea.

I was filled with peace. I imagined that this satisfying calm, this pure happiness might be what all that meditation and yoga stuff I do is really all about. I recognized that magic occurs when you to choose to believe in it. I was aware that miracles do happen; that there are in fact, marvels found in each and every moment. All you have to do is wake up.