9:00 am. The wind that blew through here last night came in gusts. The guys were playing hearts on the front deck, and every so often the cards would scatter and shuffle themselves. A few times some would blow out of the boat and land on the bank, but I don't think they lost any. They would have known if they had, so I'm sure they didn't.
It was still intermittently windy when I went to bed (before eleven) in my sleeping bag on the top deck. it wasn't cold, though. It was a warm wind, but it blew through the night, and by morning it had cooled off a lot.
It was also dark when I went to bed, but not for long. Within fifteen minutes the nearly-full moon appeared over the mountains on the far horizon, and it slowly made its way up and over the lake, obliterating the stars, satellites and meteors. Since I'm used to falling asleep with the TV on, the moon didn't keep me awake. Or maybe I was just so tired that nothing could have kept me awake.
So I don't know if the moon made it all the way across the sky. I assume that it did. I do know that the sun appeared above a slightly different horizon at almost exactly eight this morning. That's when I got up. There's no use in staying inside a hot sleeping bag with the sun beating on you. That's my philosophy anyway.
When I picked up my glasses to put them on, the first thing I noticed was a line across the middle of my field of vision. It wasn't some new horizon, which had been my first half-awake thought. The glasses had been half in and half out of the sun as they rested on the deck, and so only half of the lenses had got dark. It was a relief to know there was a logical physical reason for this phenomenon. I've had enough problems with my eyes lately without adding something mysterious like that.