I don’t consider myself a moon guy. I’m more of a stars guy myself. I like those thousands of little dots scattered across the night sky that are actually great balls of fire. But every now and then, I do prefer the moon over the stars, especially during a full moon. You know, you can’t see a full moon every day. During special occasions like this, I genuinely adore the moon.

I was just looking at the weather app on my phone this afternoon, trying to check whether tomorrow would bring rain. Then I scrolled to the bottom and found that today (or tonight) would be a full moon. Well, not the FULL MOON – full moon, the weather app said “Waning Gibbous”. I was late by one day. The actual full moon was yesterday. Well, whatever. I always consider the full moon to last for three days anyway.

My plan was simple: I would watch the moonrise while enjoying some drinks. One thing about observing celestial objects from planet Earth is that they always look bigger when they rise and when they set. There’s something about being close to the horizon that makes the sun and moon appear larger, creating a more dramatic effect.

The moonrise would start at 6:18 PM, according to the weather app. I was three hours late. I was occupied by watching this K-Drama about a group of former national athletes who became cops. Before I went to the rooftop, I picked up a drink from the fridge and grabbed this ceramic tea cup I bought from an artisan pottery shop in town. I chose this one cup because of its unique design: a white tea cup without a handle, with white glaze that makes it look like ice cream melted around the outer edge of the cup.

I deliberately don’t turn on the rooftop lights. I don’t want any light to distract me. Tonight is all about the moonlight. I sound like a werewolf who will transform tonight, but trust me, I’m not.

Tonight’s drink is cold brew tea that’s been sitting in the fridge for five days. The pitcher is almost empty, so I might as well drink it all for this occasion. This has become something of a ritual for me. These solitary moon-watching sessions while enjoying some drinks. Sometimes it’s coffee, sometimes soda, rum, or beer. But tonight, it’s this forgotten tea, perfectly chilled and ready to accompany my late rendezvous with the moon.

I sit on top of the low concrete wall, barely knee-high, trying to balance myself so I don’t fall sideways. I pour my drink into the cup, raise it high up in the air, and make a gesture like I’m toasting the moon. “Salut!” I say almost like a whisper, feeling slightly ridiculous but oddly satisfied.

Then I just sit there. And sit. And sit some more. Staring at the moon like it might suddenly do something interesting, sipping my tea slowly—melancholically. The silence stretches on, broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional motorcycle revving in the distance. I raise my cup again in another respectful toast. The moon really is beautiful tonight, hanging there like a slightly imperfect pearl against the dark sky.

My mind starts to wander, as it always does during these quiet moments. I find myself thinking about the past. I remember back in high school I participated in the National Science Olympiad (OSN) for Astronomy at the city level—I ended up winning first place. There is this one topic that I still remember to this day, which is apparent magnitude. To put it simply, it’s a way to measure a celestial object’s relative brightness. The full moon has an apparent magnitude of -12.60. Twenty-five thousand times brighter than the brightest star from planet Earth, which is Sirius A. It’s fascinating that among other topics like coordinate systems,**celestial mechanics, redshift, or stellar classification, this one topic about apparent magnitude sticks with me to this day

It’s funny how the moon connects to so many memories. I remember Luna, my old friend who I haven’t seen in maybe a decade. Her name literally means the moon. There’s something beautiful about how parents around the world choose to name their children after the moon. In any language, in any culture, people seem to agree that the moon is worth honoring this way. Luna in Latin, Selene in Greek, Chandra in Sanskrit, Yue in Chinese. Each culture looks up at the same celestial companion and thinks, “Yes, this is beautiful enough to name my child after”. It speaks to something universal about human nature. How we’re drawn to beauty, how we want to carry a piece of that wonder with us through our names, our stories, our quiet moments like this one. The moon has been humanity’s companion for millennia, and here I am, continuing that ancient tradition of simply sitting and appreciating its presence.

I manage to stay up there for about an hour, just sitting and thinking and occasionally toasting the moon with my slowly diminishing tea. But eventually, nature calls, and I have to head back inside. My bladder, unfortunately, doesn’t care about my philosophical moon-gazing session.

Before I head back inside, while picking up the pitcher and the cup, I’m already planning my next date with the moon. I’ll bring two cups next time—one for me, one for the moon, because it feels right somehow. I’ll bring a drink of my choice, whatever strikes my fancy that night. And I’ll bring a book, something good that I can read by moonlight. I’ll stay longer next time, really settle in for the evening. There’s something appealing about the idea of reading while the moon watches over me, like having a quiet, luminous companion for the night.

Wherever it might be, I’m looking forward to the next date.