A stock image, like a cliche, is just that because it's so true. After a busy and varied day with some annoyances, I drove home from a painfully amateur student reading of a painfully amateur screenplay. The moon looked exactly like that image and was front and center for about two miles. I remember a song from long ago sung, if I remember correctly, by Vic Damone -- or maybe Perry Como -- with the lines "when the moon hits your eye/ like a big pizza pie. That's amore." Amore hasn't particularly been on my mind but a moon like that is sure to bring cliches and trite memories.
As for stars, I don't quite understand the phenomenon -- when I first looked up, from a place where a tallish building blocks the moon, I saw only a couple of very bright stars; but there were many trees overhead as well. Later on, out in the open, I still saw only the few very, very bright stars, not a sky full as I see in the summer. I know they don't go into hibernation in the winter. Maybe there were high clouds that I couldn't really see. It's a moon to write a poem about and I'm going to give that a shot before I go to bed this evening.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!