Much to my dismay, the full moon was obscured by clouds in the "perfect" location I'd chosen for the rise over Crested Butte, Colorado. Planning to shoot sunrise, I set my alarm for 5:30. After a night of fitful sleep, I awoke around 4:30 to a bright light shining through a small crack in the curtain directly over the foot of my bed. As I reached my hand to close the curtain, there she was .. the full moon descending. What a sight to behold as I opened the curtain, lay back on the bed and watched (not particularly photo worthy) for several minutes until she hid behind Mt. Crested Butte. Attempting sleep was futile, so I decided to get ready and head out a bit earlier than planned. On my way to photograph a field of lupine in the early morning light, I glanced westward and there she was again in all her glory. Close to moon set, I quickly crossed two lanes and pulled onto the shoulder. Two cameras, two tripods and feeling like the luckiest woman in the world, I got my shot. And it was even better than I'd hoped for. Had she not awakened me at 4:30, I would have missed this splendid moment. Had I not received her gentle nudgings, I would have missed this splendid moment. And in the midst of this moment, I heard Leonard singing low ... "Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in ..."