Flower Moon

"Last night was the full moon. As darkness descended over our property, my partner built a fire in the firepit. We sat and watched the moon rise. At first she was brilliant orange, but as the minutes past, she became a glowing white. She came up slowly, moving across the horizon quicker than she climbed into the sky. We sat and watched as she climbed higher, shining through the birches like a beacon in the sky.

The night air was warm and smelled so good. The frogs were singing in the bogs behind our property. As the night progressed the whip-er-wills began to call, their eerie song slipping through the night. I watched the fire, the sparks dancing up into the darkness like little bits of the sun from whence they originally came. The fire crackled, hissed and roared intermittently, the smell of cedar scenting the night air.

Our dog Honey pushed deeper under my chair, not liking the nights sounds, probably wishing she was in her bed, wondering what we were doing out in the dark. She is a real scaredy cat when it comes to the night.

Finally, as the fire died, the moon was high above the horizon sending a beam of wonderous light down the path through our woods. We followed the light until we could see her, no longer blocked by the trees, but riding high in the sky. It sends a thrill through me, to know that no matter how long this patch of earth is ours, we will always be able to see her, she will never be blocked by buildings, her light denied us.

There is a secret hour of the night
when the goddess rises in the moon,
the great queen of all humanity,
full of power and majesty.
She shines on us, and all of us
are enlivened by her. All of us:
animals, both wild and tame,
and plants and trees, and even
rocks and clouds and oceans,
for everything has its rhythm,
everything has its ebbs and flows.
Whether in the air, on earth, or
beneath the sea, everything is hers.

-Apuleius, The Golden Ass

Do you watch the full moon rise?" I whisper.

Are you listening?