This morning I awoke to the remnants of a swirly, wet, shiver-inducing, winter storm. New-fallen snow illuminated by the most beautiful full moon in the clear black sky. Still and dark, it was a sight to behold.
For as far back as I can remember I have loved the night sky. I faked my way through the Big Dipper, Orion and being true to my zodiac sign; Leo. Pretending that I too could see and understand the mysteries of the constellations when each were pointed out. Not so the moon. Night after night he rises to his glory, whether feeling small like a toenail clipping, or grand as a hot air balloon, Mr. Moon is a dependable friend in a sometimes unfriendly world. While some fear the unknown of the night, I enjoy the mysteries that await as the sun slumbers.
As a child a summer moon meant drive-in movies, endless games of ‘No Bears are out Tonight’ and only the spookiest of ghost stories. Running blindly and the thrill of the unknown … how I loved that summer moon. As a teenager making out under a moon-lit sky was simply the best. Watching airplanes land late at night and pretending the only navigation was the alignment of the moon and stars was thrilling. Summer night games and more ghost stories. Grand!
Unpredictable and yet so predictable. I have always known that no matter where my life goes, when friends have come and gone, when my negative thoughts about myself were too strong and everything seemed so out of reach and unattainable, I only have to gaze upward to feel a calm, quiet acceptance to reflect, reassess and renew my spirit. It’s no wonder that falling asleep and waking to the face the moon fills me with hope for each new day. Love my guy, the moon.
“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” ~Anton Chekhov