A supermoon is the coincidence of a full moon with the closest approach the moon makes to the Earth on its elliptical orbit. The technical name is the perigee-syzygy of the Earth-Moon-Sun system.

The full moon was 222,365 miles from Earth on Sunday at it shone overhead, so big and close and orange. That is 16% larger than average and almost 30% larger than the year’s smallest full moon. It reminded me of Smiling Buddha in Bali and the culture of measuring life in moon cycles.

It was my last day on Jeju Island. I woke up and did my daily ashtanga routine in unfamiliar surroundings. I was quiet within myself. We ate spicy kimchi fried rice for breakfast on the worn wooden floor on top of a folded blanket next to the yoga mat. There was an spoken and perhaps surreal, unknown finality to the start of the day. The alcohol drained from our system and pores, and life was real with a tinge of sad.

The day before, I had gone with Jeju friends to an ice cold waterfall, water from the mountains with the island heading into late fall/winter. We all jumped in as bundled up, jacketed Korean tourists looked at us in abject horror from behind the ropes, rocks, and wooden viewing platforms. It was a day when I felt very alone and separated from the pack.

The evening began with wine and salad in comfy surroundings. I changed out of my wet bathing suit in the bathroom. I was glad there was another Korean at the table, one with unbroken Korean. The menu translations and communication flowed smoothly. As I drank, my self-consciousness and awareness of my own state of aloneness started to disappear. More and more Jeju friends joined the table. We left at midnight.

In spite of the more than usual amount of sleep (i.e., more than 2-3 hours) and the yoga routine, the last day was there in front of us. We rushed out and drove.

The rain started to come down at Wooljeong (sp?) beach. It was a beautiful stop for coffee, sitting in a white netted metallic chair on a porch/deck. We had a relationship type talk. I haven’t had one of those in AGES. A real talk about feelings and a situation from the night before, a talk about security, insecurity, and how to talk to each other.

The next stop was Zen Hideaway Cafe near Seogwipo in the south, where we tried to create a vegan meal from the menu. The substitution requests were somewhat lost, and we were ultimately unsuccessful. There was bacon in the tomato sauce. The Thai fried rice had egg. No biggie.

We ventured out the doors and climbed down onto the beach. Green mossiness speckled the rock formations on the beach, and we talked about the beauty of erosion and how it was a microcosm of mountain ranges while we looked at tiny crabs climbing around in the contained pools within the crevices. There was a historical ship in the distance. I guess the Dutch had moored there at one point and were captured at put to work. Sanbangsan mountain was beside and behind us.

We navigated by car and then through thatches and a barely perceptible pathway onto another black sand beach. It was pristine, secluded, unknown. I thought about the passage of time. It was October. I was so fortunate to be alive and to be on an unknown black sand beach in the middle of nowhere. Surely, someone would find and develop it at some point, but for now, it was ours. How beautiful it would be to camp there.

The day ended normally. Dinner at the soy restaurant (which is not really even a soy restaurant) on the coast. We ate soy ice cream outside in front of our table ledge.

The supermoon was to the right of us, looking so significant above coastline and dark shadows of earth, nature, buildings, and other formations in the distance.

Afterwards, we ventured onto another unknown pathway of sorts after a short drive and turnoff to see the planes flying overhead in the darkness. We were alone. It was a moment. They were all moments.

The supermoon continued to shine above us overhead. Full moons. The biggest of full moons.

I tried to feel nothing. I marveled at my ability to detach. I wondered if it was a sign of progress or cynicism / advanced jadedness.

The end was unremarkable. We bought dish soap and garbage bags. The next morning, there was coffee, and we drove to the airport.

“Talk soon.”