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.)

Moonlight Bright…

I opened my eyes to see moonlight splashed bright across my warm comforter, then turned to see the clock – 3:00AM . I snuggled into my pillow, pulled up the comforter crisscrossed by clear lines of light and shadow from windowpanes and mullions, and closed my eyes, but it was no use. The brightness of the moon had danced into my mind and now called to me, insisting I join her.

I slipped quietly from bed, slid into muck shoes and a fleece, and, taking Petra with me, stepped silently out into the light of night. Frosty grass sparkled, bright beside deep shadows of trees crossing the yard. The moon, full round and white, hung in the southern sky, obscuring nearly all stars around her. To the north I could make out the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia, but most stars had yielded to the brilliance of the moon.

All was still. Not a sound, not a breath of wind. Just the world in black and white and shades of gray, with the fresh tang of frost fully awakening my spirit. Alert, I thought to walk, but I sensed that, like all nature around, I had to be still. And so I stood, Petra silent beside me, moonlight falling bright on us, shadows long behind us, filling my soul, calming my being.

Full Moon Over Pond

This painting, “Full Moon,” is currently featured in my Etsy shop.