A few weeks ago, I got the incredible chance to see the full moon rise along with the sunset. One of those serendipitous things that the Covid-19 shelter-in-place has given me. I did not realize that it was the golden moon – the day the 🌝 moon comes closest to the Earth, and maybe it was better that I hadn’t prepared for it. For, out on the walk, I stood mesmerized as I saw the moon rise slowly in the East, as the sun set slowly in the West.
A better time or combination of light I could not imagine. A golden orb that rose from behind the green hills, and bathed the beautiful Earth with its benevolent beams, while the glittering sun bowed out graciously throwing pinks, oranges and purples with abandon against the blue skies. I watched the geese fly on over, ducks swim against the moonbeams on the lake, squirrels stopping to take in the surrounding beauty, and blackbirds swarming low over the lake waters.
I turned around to share the beautiful marvel of the time with my fellow beings when I realized I was quite physically distant from my fellow beings – human or otherwise. Do other sentient beings feel the same overwhelming sense of being at moments like these? Do dolphins take the time to gaze at the full moon like we do, do polar bears and penguins do the same from their respective poles? What a great unifying experience we all have with the celestial shows the universe throws at us?!
Oh! To quiver with excitement with the Earth’s beauty has become my wont.
The blue skies turned inky, and the golden moon turned silver, and yet I could not pluck myself from the beauty of the evening.
The giant glittering orb slowly peeked out from behind the green hills, and then rose steadily in a few minutes. We stood a few feet from a lake, socially distancing ourselves. How many times I have felt my heart flutter by catching a glimpse of the moon unexpectedly in the skies? How many lovers have gazed at the moon wistfully, dreamily, lovingly or yearningly through the ages? What a great unifying experience we all have across the pages of time?!
I am so glad for our nearest cosmic neighbor – I remember a few years ago when we were moon-gazing awestruck at the beauty of the reflected sunlight, the son said, “Can you imagine how beautiful nights on Jupiter must be? Imagine looking up and seeing 64 moons in the sky!”
I was taken aback at the statement, but also thankful for the one moon we do have.
A known Selenophile if there was one, I picked up the book Music for Mister Moon by Philip Stead with a song in my heart that evening. The beaming moon has always attracted me, whether it is catching a fleeting glimpse of it as it appears and reappears amidst scudding clouds, or the waxing and waning of it during its reliable moon cycles or even when I catch an unexpected glimpse of it when the sun is bright and high above in the sky.
The story of a shy young girl who plays her instrument for no one but herself gently tugs us along for a ride as she accidentally pulls the moon right out of the sky. The moon’s revelation to know what it must be like to float on the waters it is always reflected upon brings a little smile to your own lips, and slowly, but surely you cheer for the little shy girl who opens her talent up to share with the moon.
The book does its best to capture the magic of the moon, but probably the best gift of all is the dream I had after writing this post: I woke up thinking I was on a boat mesmerized by the floating moon near me.
🌙 🌝 Moon Magic. ✨ ✨