Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Grain Moon, Green Corn Moon, Red Moon, August Moon, Blueberry Moon, Full Sturgeon Moon, Blue Moon. All magnificent names, each significant to someone or none at all. One glorious sight.
Full moons always astound me. There is something so beautiful about the light of the moon falling across a pasture, illuminating the lingering flights of horseflies and bats. This August moon is especially lovely. The mild summer that we have had here on the plains made tonight perfect for "moon watching". I anticipated the moon's appearance all evening. We listened to murder ballads and blues albums and I read a collection of American folk tales. I went to bed and set my alarm for "early".
Ginger and I sat outside in the wee hours, when you can just smell the morning coming, and I watched the moon slowly set. I sipped a cup of coffee between glances to the sky. I allowed my mind to wander as I watched that moon sink low and the morning stars faded.
I thought about this great big ol'earth and our stewardship thereof. I thought about the plants and animals under our care. I thought about dirt, and the bees, and the smell of sweet rain, and drought. I thought about the miracle of sprouting flowers and the wonder of holding their root systems in your hands. I thought about the fish in the sea and the birds in the air. I began to feel downright tiny and full of wonder.