Last night I stayed on my friend’s fishing boat, which he keeps at a residential dock in Sausalito. My stay corresponded with the blood moon/lunar eclipse, and so I found myself sitting on a folding chair with the population of the dock who were in the midst of a astronomic potluck. We ate baked potatoes and beans and brownies. The moon slowly faded until only a sliver remained, and we retired to the boat’s deck where we smoked pipes and sipped mulled wine. The boat kept slowly rocking until it became to chilly to sit outside. The moon stayed the same.