“it’s full tonight. so we go and the moon rises, so beautiful it makes me shudder, makes me think about time and space, makes me take measure of myself: one iota pondering heaven. thus we sit, myself thinking how grateful i am for the moon’s perfect beauty and also, oh! how rich it is to love the world.” (mary oliver – the sweetness of dogs)
we are on the west side of lake michigan. it’s the cold side, the side with many rocks, big boulders. the sun rises over our lake. the moon rises over our lake. and there are days – magical ones – when the moon is in full phase – a giant ball, moonlining to anyone on shore. wishes that landed on stars seem destined to come true. loving to-the-moon-and-back is potent and visual. it would seem – on those nights that the moon takes over the night sky and all else shrinks – that – in the purest sense -peace really could guide our planet and that love really could steer the stars, constellations with invisible reins tethered to reaching hands and hearts on the shoreline.
we drove home from the snowy trail and the moon was just starting to rise over the trees in the distance as we drove east. across a snow-filled farmfield, beyond the stand of woods, there it was, more intense each minute, dynamic through dusty rose and salmon and blush, finally flushed more golden. i kept driving east, directly to our lake.
we weren’t alone. there were other peace-and-love-rising seekers there and we all photographed our individual moon photos – the same beauty-shudder-rich sky as it turned to night over the great lake, its surface slightly rippled by calmer winds.
sometimes we forget how stunning this all is.
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