Friday, July 15, 10 p.m. I sit on the porch during the first balmy night in ... oh, it seems forever. Full moon rising. She seizes the night sky in her slow arc, silhouetting a giant pine against bright moonlight. A drift of clouds brazenly sails across her moon face and hurries away - defeated. She glows and grows to her apex. She rules the night, and I, nearly infected with moon crazy, escape inside to bed.
Saturday, July 16, 6 a.m. The dogs and I walk beneath a pale, lemon moon, under seizure by pink dawn clouds. She is still queenly, but wan, and we are safe to walk out beneath her benign descent.
Your wordsongs, word paintings, and musings are medication for the mind.
ReplyDeleteBetsy, Somehow i have not seen the comments on my blog. You don't know how much I appreciate your thoughtful and positive words - not to mention reading it!!
DeleteThank you! Sandi