Even without binoculars we could see the craters.
So L.A.-odd to be standing in one's front yard, behind one's un-neighborly hedge, ooohing and aaahing over the ginormous moon, whilst just on the other side of the hedge -- invisible to us but as audible as if they were standing on our front porch -- total strangers are standing a few feet away on the sidewalk, ooohing and aaahing and smiling with wonder up at the moon.
Zaza was already asleep. Dubbadad and pajama'd Ander passed the binoculars back and forth. I fiddled with the settings on my smarter-than-I-am camera.
For a moment I imagined floating above our hedge, flying low over the city, looking down on all the upturned, moonlit faces.
When I tucked Ander in, I said I wished we hadn't fertilized the front lawn today, so that we could have done something more frolic-some under that ginormous moon, and he giggled and then quieted, imagining it, choreographing a moon dance for the next Supermoon.