I awoke this morning with the moon on my face. Shining through the slit in our curtain, she was full and bold and beautiful. F and I snuggled before getting up and I hurried through my morning routine so I could leave early.
I drove to the nearby big hill and walked to the top. No moon anywhere.... i chose big hill because I knew the moon would be setting shortly after it reached full eclipse. From big hill I should hav been able to see it slip in to the sea.
The early morning was soft and gentle looking, full of pastel hues and a flowing mist clinging here and there. Ice hid in hollows at the bottom of the hill, but it got bolder with height. The sky promised to be blue with little white fluffy clouds. But the clouds and mist were hugging the horizon out to sea and I knew I would not see the moon again this morning.
But there was still the sun to rise and after all, the winter solstice is all about the sun. Just watching it felt like an act of worship. The sense of peace buoyed me through the day and left me contented. And then as I drove home, there was the moon, low to the horizon, full and beautiful and renewed again.
I could talk more about today and I probably will, but not now. The strange energy of the day needs to be digested a little first....
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