The atmosphere does that, Ana explained. All the gases act as a magnifying glass. Once it gets higher, it won’t look as big.

Douglas came out with two lawn chairs and blankets, and Diana Olmstead thanked him and lowered herself into a chair. Claartija sat cross-legged in the grass; her boyfriend huddled near her, brushing hair from his face. Ana slipped her hand into Pars’s.

On a clear autumn night like this, with the moon full, Ana and her husband used to sit on the roof of their loft looking at the disk of the moon through spotting scopes mounted on tripods. You could tell the rough density of migrating birds by how many you counted in an hour flying across the face of the moon. Once Ana had participated in a moon-watching survey over the Gulf of Mexico. Two hundred volunteers, staring through opticals at the moon.

Ana told the others about the study, about how you could actually see birds migrating in the dark.

Come on, Claartija said.

It’s really fairly simple, Ana explained. All you need is a twenty-powered scope, or even a pair of field glasses sometimes works.

Claartija’s boyfriend swept hair from his eyes. Could we try it? he asked.

Ana shrugged. It takes a bit of training.

Pars tamped out his cigarette. What better night than this? he asked.

Well. Ana turned to Kevin. Do you have any binoculars?

Kevin seemed startled by the question. He’d been sitting in the grass, leaning on his elbows, staring up at the moon.

Sorry? he said and blushed in the dark.

Binoculars, Ana repeated.

Yes, Douglas answered. He has at least two pairs.

Douglas put his hands on his knees and stood. I’ll get them, he said.

Do you know where they are? Kevin asked.

Yes, Douglas said, walking away.

One’s in the library, Kevin shouted.

I know.

And bring the telescope.

Kevin turned to Ana. Will that work?

I guess we’ll see, Ana said. She stood as well. Her Swarovskis were in the cottage. She brought them with her whenever she traveled now; she’d even brought a pair of Nikons for Pars to use on the trip. She was teaching him the names of North American birds.

A few minutes later, Douglas returned with the binoculars and the telescope. Ana came back too. They distributed the opticals; only Diana Olmstead declined. The moon had lifted clear off the water now and hung full-blown above the horizon. Ana told them to turn the focus ring all the way open and keep as still as possible. The slightest movement would make the image tremble.

Claartija brought the binoculars to her face.

I can’t see anything, she complained.

You’ve got to be very still and very patient, Ana said. Ideally we should be using tripods. The best way is to lie down and put the glasses to your face and then control your breath.