Full Moon

The full moon's fingers caress the white pines and bathe my dirt road in light like a fickle lover. Shadows dance around the edges in anticipatory wonder. I love the night in the mountains, by the rivers, and overlooking a lake that echoes the forlorn cries of a pair of loons. The moonlight calls the wild critters out and about, and it never fails, if you look closely, you have the good fortune to note their silent passings: a coyote, an owl on the hunt, a raccoon herding her little ones to safety, a doe and spotted fawn, a bear, and a moose as big as I've ever seen and as ugly as sin. Life doesn't get much better than this.

This night at the end of June seems timeless. There are those who will not share this moment nor walk this road again. I already feel the void as the winds seem to whisper their names: old Mr. Hall, grandpa of the Halls and a fisherman who passed doing just that; Mr. Crowl the mild mannered Maryland farmer who came as a stranger but whose good nature earned him a place; Gloria who passed a year after her sister, both opposites but both beloved; and Pat who worked hard her whole life to earn a place of her own, but died before having a chance to enjoy it. Each year seems to bring another loss. As I sit on my front porch, I look at the empty chair beside me and sometimes think I can hear these friends' voices as the wind ruffles through the trees about evening tide.

Late night in the city is always noisy, always bathed in false neon light, anbd life is always moving on without pause or pretense. Late night in the mountains is always hushed, always dark except for moonlight, and life always is slow and takes measure. It is here that I take measure of my life and my place in it. I feel grateful for the time that has allowed me to live in such opposite worlds. They are my yin and yang, the breathe and food that nourishes my soul. The clouds are coming in on a strong northeasterly breeze, and I think it brings an electrical storm that will sever the night and pound the pine needles with torrents of rain that will feed the river that is running low.