Hush

The moon shines bright:  in such a night as this, 

When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees

And they did make no noise, in such a night 

Troilus, methinkins, mounted the Trojan walls

And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,

Where Cressid lay that night.

(The Merchant of Venice)

All right, so there is no wind, and it's rather chill, but the moon here is as full and bright as a perfect disc of white silver; in fact, I'm writing this by moonlight.  I went to a wonderful milonga, and when I came out the air was chilly and the full moon was almost in the middle of the sky.  It was midnight, and we cycled home in the quiet, and as we came up to Lammas Land there was thick fog.  A bright moon, a cool night, fog, and cycling quietly both separate from and with a group of people I like:  ah.  Shhhh.