There’s something so very primitive about a December night when the full moon takes center stage.
No filters, no flash, no fancy camera tricks—just pure silver moonlight lighting up the fields from above.
What makes this scene even more magical are the details that get noticed once my eyes adjust.
Deer tracks wander across the snow—fresh and quiet reminders that I’m not the only one out here in the still of the night.
Then there are the long shadows cast by the trees that stretch across the snow, adding depth to the darkness.
Out here, in the cold, I can’t help but stop. I feel the cold sink into my body and into my hands. I wonder how long I can be out here before the Wisconsin December cold finds its way in through my jacket—but somehow, the light keeps me here, wanting to walk away, but needing to stay for a few more minutes.
The chill cold air, the moon light, the stillness, the silence, the snow, the deer tracks—everything comes together in a way that forces me to remember a night so long ago when I hunted until midnight watching deer move all around me on Uncle Kenny’s farm in Shiocton Wisconsin.
Sometimes, the most breathtaking scenes aren’t created—they’re simply noticed and remembered.
On nights like this, the world reminds me just how stunning it can be when I take a moment to stop and just willing to be outside when it’s very cold.
