The Voice of the Moon

The moon shines her silver fingers through my open window and gently touches my cheek. I open my eyes to see the time; it’s 3AM. I roll over, snuggle into my covers, and close my eyes again. But I can’t close out the moon’s invitation, her call to go outside and join her in the magic of the night.

I slip into a warm fleece jacket and muck shoes, leash Petra, and step into the night. Hovering over the high-reaching branches of the black locust tree, the moon moves in brilliant rhythm with Mars, her partner for tonight’s dance. The two of them shine so brightly they have the sky to themselves, other than the Big Dipper, who watches from his spot in the northern sky. I watch as the dancers flow with the cheerful music of the stream, or is that the voice of the moon, rich with the fullness of her joy?

A Catbird, perhaps confused by the silver light, sings continuously somewhere through the woods. In the distance a Barred Owl calls twice, as if to welcome me to his world. All else is still. Too cool for insects, there is no chirping of cricket or flash of firefly, just the stillness that reigns when the sun is down and the moon shines her silver light over the world.

The dance ends as the moon slips behind the trees, leaving the picnic table before me in shadow. I lay my pen down, no longer able to see my page, and sit quietly, savoring the darkness that thrums with silent life. Then, my visit over, I head back inside to snuggle into warm covers and dream of silver light and birdsong.

Moon Shine

(This painting is currently featured in my Etsy shop.)

Morning Musings

Song Sparrow and Chipping Sparrow

I pull a heavy sweater over my pajamas , slip my feet into my Crocs, and step out into birdsong—Cardinals, Robins, Titmice, Chickadees awakening the day. Heading up my driveway in soft-soled stealth-mode, scanning the still dark woods, I spot three sleepy does just as they spot me- and leap to their feet, causing me to startle momentarily.

I continue, Canada Geese and Chipping Sparrows now adding their calls to the growing concert. A  Spruce stands tall and black against the glow in the Eastern sky as a Red-bellied Woodpecker lilts past. I pad silently, drinking in the dawn.

The crown of a Maple turns green, then suddenly all the gray gives way to shades of abundant life, and more birds merge their voices with the joyful announcement of morning. I turn homeward, surrounded by the songs of Phoebes, White-throated Sparrows, Bluebirds and more. The day has begun, and I am ready to join it.

Canada Goose with reflection
Titmouse, Chickadee, Nuthatch