I walked out the back door at ten to two.
The moon was already mostly in shadow. But unlike the crisp edge of a waxing moon, the light softened along the shadow, the shape less defined.
The night was dark, not lit up by the full white moon as it was when I went to bed.
Before I even noticed how clear the sky was and how many stars, I heard the geese in the neighbors corn field.
They were talking back and forth like people in a theater before the performance begins. The darkness seemed to echo the quiet and I could hear the rush of the stream on the edge of the woods, as I never have in the daytime. Then, one by one, the flow of urine hitting the cold hard ground as each sheep peed.
I couldn’t see the animals, it was that dark. But I felt Lulu come up behind me and I leaned against her. Her winter coat, soft and thick. I looked up at the moon and to her right a shooting star fell in a blink, as if the universe was winking at me.
As I watched the moon I reminded myself that I was seeing the shadow of the earth. The shadow of the planet that I was standing on.
So that even though the moon was high in the sky and small, I felt closer to her.
Once the shadow had covered the glow of the moon it turned from black to deep red at the center, softening to orange and finally a ring of darkening yellow.
And the stars, suddenly the clear night sky was speckled with tiny dots I couldn’t see before. In places there were so many tiny stars they seemed to blend together, softening the darkness.
After a while, I went into the house and made myself a cup of warm milk. Then I took it back outside, to drink in the company of the Blood Moon.
What a sight! You were the best witness to this lovely happening.
THank you Maggie.
I love your description of this eclipse of the moon. I wish I could have remained up to see it, but I went to bed at 12:30 a.m. before the eclipse darkened the sky.
I think there is more than one way to experience it Richard. I had two friends who saw the full moon in the morning and felt that it was special in it’s own way. It was exceptionally bright when I saw it around 10pm.
What a beautiful description of your visit with the moon. I love that Lulu shared it with you. You made me feel like I was there.
I was in good company Laura. :)
This had a similar effect on me as Annie Dillard’s “Total Eclipse” from her collection _Teaching a Stone to Talk_, one of my favorite books of all time. Your and her writing is so vivid, it makes me feel like I was there, in an experience I may never have myself. Thank you, Maria.
Thank you Susan. It what I hoped it would do. I’ve never read Teaching a Stone to Talk, I love Dillards writing I’ll have to get it.
This is beautiful! I feel as though I was able to see the Blood Moon.
Thank you.
That makes me very happy Fran. So glad I could share it.
Beautiful. I feel as if I was there with you. Here on tnr West Coast we saw nothing except cloud cover. We could feel her though!
We were lucky it was so clear. I’m glad I could share the experience. But I do know what you mean about the feeling. It’s there whether you can see the moon or not.
ah Maria, we have walked the fields together in some distant world, but still the cup of warm milk in hand with only the light of the moon. You also were the word artist for the poetry flows into the night with slick passage. I now will look upon my mug of milk and wonder the lot of us meeting again. Thank you for this touch of words that embraces all tightly. veronica
You found the meaning in what I wrote about Veronica. Your message poetry itself. I do look forward to meeting again, where ever it may be.
Beautiful.
I missed it too but you took me with you.
Thank you, Maria
I missed it..have been so separated from the natural world because of illness and somehow lost so much. I used to go out in the night accompanied by my dog and often cats just to experience a full moon in the woods or listen more closely to a speech owl. I’m afraid of falling and that fear has taken my soul. Your videos and photos are giving me courage to experience nature again.
Thank you Maria.
PS. . I am a bug fan of Lynda Humpt
I”m sorry Georgeanne, that you can’t go out into the woods at night like you used to. I hope you find a way to be in nature again that is safe and works for you now. I do love being about to share my experiences in nature. It makes me pay more attention and gives those times even more purpose.