The full moon seems glued to the horizon as it rises over Lake Superior last night. The weird distortions result from an inferior mirage. Bob King
Lake Superior is never boring. Nor is there one moonrise quite like another. That’s why if the sky is clear and the moon is near full — and occasionally when it’s not — I make a point of watching it come up over the big lake. In a city thronged with trees it’s the only refuge for horizon-seekers.
Last night’s sky wasn’t promising. Scattered clouds scuttled about as a blanket of overcast climbed up from the western horizon. A strong wind hammered my back, but at the appointed moment, a tiny spot of bright light appeared in the distance and slowly grew into one of the weirdest moonrises I’ve ever witnessed.
Refraction flattened the rising moon into a cookie, but as it continued to rise, I watched in disbelief as the fluttering apparition morphed into a gumdrop and ultimately a water tower as if glued to the horizon and struggling to break free. When the final strands of light connecting the upper and lower images snapped, the moon hovered over what looks like its ...