It was mid-August in the middle of the Pacific, in what is supposed to be the most isolated group of islands in the entire planet. Well, on Earth at least. The third (actually, 30th in total) and last night of the August observing run was coming to an end and the data obtained so far couldn't be better. So with the telescope observing the last target of the night, and with virtually no wind outside (and a scalding 3ºC outside), going for a walk felt like quite a natural thing to do. Of course, in a completely "dark night" (new moon), it's not that easy to know where you are going. Outside the telescopes it's always absolutely dark (well, unless when there are dumb crazy tourists around which clearly can't read...), except for the faint and distant lights coming from Hilo at sea level, which make up for quite a spectacle when the "down-sky" is clear - which was not quite the case for that night. Of course, using the amazing near-infrared view (a sort of army-style thing which makes everything look green) gives you an absolutely different view of the outside. Despite the relatively low temperatures around 0ºC, things are sufficiently warm to make them visible in the near-infrared; not quite the great multi-colour daylight view (as the one in the photo at sunset), but definitely better than walking in pitch black conditions. More than that: it really reveals the breathtaking spectacle of light in the sky, with hundreds of thousands of stars shinning all over the place and with constant shooting stars making the sky look even brighter at times. Soon enough, the proximity of the sunset starts to fill the horizon with light, and that's when your eyes are inevitability drawn to it, only to realize that, actually, there is something there already. Already above the horizon and covered in a faint blue colour, but just bright enough to recognize its "oceans". The moon had risen just minutes before the sunset, and whilst its illuminated side was hidden from the Earth (it was new moon after all), you could see it so clearly. That's when you realise why you can actually see it: whilst there is no sun-light illuminating the moon's visible side, the entire "dark" face is exposed to the entire Earth. It's "full Earth", the moon would say, and being in a place in the middle of an Ocean as large as the Pacific, there's enough light being reflected in the ocean's surface to actually illuminate the moon, making its entire surface visible if you are in a dark enough place. Such as Mauna Kea in Hawaii.
The usually amazing sunrise followed within minutes, as all telescopes closed their domes: once again, the day was simultaneously starting and finishing on Earth. But after seeing my first "blue moon", I couldn't help but thinking how remarkable it would be to see that blue light directly. I mean, the full moon is really great (well, not so great if your "job" depends on observing faint sources in the sky...), but the full Earth, that's on a completely different level.
