Dark, chilly, and rainy all day.  Perhaps it was a day like this when Ono no Komachi wrote

Falling, the long rain,

the color from the flower,

the eye through the world.

A tanka that I've managed to render as a haiku.  In Chinese literature two people separated in space are connected by their gazing at the same moon.  Perhaps, separated in time from Komachi and her original readers, we can make a similar connection with them through contemplation of an instance of the same phenomenon that Komachi pondered.