SITTING BY THE HARVEST MOON
As I set my gaze on the Western horizon I watch as another beautiful day comes to an end. The sky darkens. Clouds change colors with the setting of the Sun and stars appear as speckles of glitter. I turn my head to the Eastern horizon in anticipation of Harvest Moon rise. The moment moves with a few eye blinks and the sky is now dark blue. I look directly above me and notice what looks like a cloud wisp streaking across the sky from north to south, but is none other than one of the arms of the Milky Way Galaxy. I notice a triangular star formation and all the constellations are then before my eyes. But still, no Moon rise. The night becomes quietly still with occasional sounds of crickets or the flight of an owl. I sit, breathe, and wait. My thoughts come and go, but my eyes are still set to the Eastern horizon. Several moments pass and a light appears. Something that is familiar, unlike a street lamp and more like a fire light. The moment of anticipation in seeing the first light of Moon rise on the last day of summer is similar to the Forth of July fireworks! This is time I take to be humble and quiet and to give thanks for all that I have received since Summer Solstice; And to send out my prayers of healing for everything, everybody, including myself.
There is something about the light of Harvest Moon, as it brilliantly glows orange and red. She calls attention to herself and mesmerizes all who catch a glimpse. There is magic in the air as I watch her climb high above the horizon. There are no thoughts. No where to go. No urge to be somewhere. Just simply with myself and the Moon. It’s always in the quiet moments when the answers come; when true insights are clear and strong. It is also these moments when I strongly realize my ancestors are with me.
Sitting by the Moon is as real as it gets. And then it dawns on me that I am happening to life. And this is real. And then another realization comes and I realize none of this is real… and then realization after realization. Things are certainly not what they seem. All of this unfolds sitting by the Moon; very subtle like a candle light, strong. Now I understand what Jack Kerouac meant when he wrote about the Moon… “In some cases the moon is you, in any case the Moon.”
BLOG & MUSINGS BY MURIEL SHICKMAN