No, not pedigree, but perigee, apparently.
Last night’s full moon was the biggest of 2009 – or, to put it another way, the moon passed closest to the earth yesterday on its eliptical orbit, making the full moon appear bigger than it will again during the year ahead.
Nasa have waxed poetic on the subject –
Even at perigee, the Moon is 360,000 km away, yet the distant beauty beckons to poets, stargazers and NASA with equal force: “Come back,” it seems to say, “I’m really not so far away.”
– so I suppose it’s only fair that I do the same, even if the poem is some years old:
I have lost my voice.
The murmur of the traffic is enough
to drown the sound of my ideas. Star grit,
like broken oyster shells, embeds itself
in my soft palate and I choke
on smoky clouds as I aspire
to the feathered tops of pine trees.
The moon dissolves,
a luminescent coughdrop,
liquid on my tongue.