I got you, moon.
I was driving down Lombard heading home from the dog park/stopping at Leisure for a beer and caprese sandwich. And then this giant yellow face rose abruptly over the horizon. And I texted to Tim (while at a stoplight, safely) "Holy fucking moon!" Then zipped around the corner and I pulled into the driveway, leapt from the driver's side and exclaimed, "To the batmobile!" But instead we just strapped our cameras and tripods to our backs, hopped on our bikes, and chased that big fat moon face down Willamette Blvd. His largeness might have escaped us, but the awesome and out-of-breathness from riding with a semi-flat front tire did not.