Lumpen Wolf Moon

A turn around the garden before bed. Brilliant moonlight from a lumpy just-past-full moon, swollen and misshapen after the full of a night or so ago. Bright enough to cast clear shadows, and a sky full of sharp stars. A thickish mist over the drop of the hill, the low point of Byton Hand between two hills, a meeting of five roads; hence the name.

I read a story on the Bertie's Cottage blog that the first full moon of January was called a Wolf Moon by medieval people, because the winter had reached the point where the wolves were hungry enough to attack farms in the search for meat.