Full moon in February:
	Bare branches, black against a silvery sky
	The night is pure.



I had to put that comma in there, or it sounded somehow amateurish. "Ah!
An alliteration!" - my GCSE English teacher would be proud of me.

But yes, there is something somehow elementally *pure* about clear
nights with a full moon. You can see for miles, as all the haze goes
away, but everything is bathed in otherworldy silvery light, turning
your familiar neighbourhood into an otherwordly landscape.

And it's all so quiet and still.