Saturday, March 22, 2008

Moon and Me by Kat Magendie

People say full moons cause madness, mayhem. Perhaps. However, for me the madness is not a negative connotation, but a magical one. The full moon pulls to me, a strong gravitational tug I cannot resist, and I do not. I like to go outside and howl at the moon. Oh, it is not allowed in a polite society. But a full moon was made to be howled to. Here on my mountain, I can howl without worry, for no one cares, and perhaps they think I am only the wolf running through our mountain woods. The moon was made to stare at in awe, too. To let the light wash over my face and cleanse away a bad day. Full moons are magical. Yes, the sun makes me happy, makes me smile as I warm my face under its bright glare. But the moon is mysteriously silent, while the sun is loud. I can imagine if the Sun was a god and the Moon was a god, the Sun god would be the big apple cheeked loud, masculine god, like the one on Mr. Scrooge – the one who is laughing uproariously, loudly, full full full of it all! But the Moon god would be pale, ethereal pale, feminine, graceful, yes, but also big boned and strong, quietly reverent to all it cast its light on, never boastful.

When the moon rises over the mountain, it casts enchantment, piercing the darkness with winks behind clouds, or on clear days, spreading out its glow, soft yet purposeful. Critters hide from the moon’s rays as moon only laughs. I do not hide and I imagine the moon appreciates my admiration. I wait for the moon, readying my howl, but first comes the reverent silence, where I attempt to find its mysteries as the sky deepens and the moon appears full of its promises. Sometimes moon is sly, and I squint my eyes, narrow my focus. The moon waits patiently under my stare, unconcerned, unabashed. Then, I let it loose; let loose the howl, long and low and soft. Once, I thought my howl was returned by wolf. Oh awe.

I do not forget the different moods of moon—three-quarters, half, slivers. Moon is just as compelling no matter its shape. Sometimes the full moon surprises me, as I didn’t expect it. There is the intake of breath, the “oh!” of surprise, the happy gratitude for its gift. Moon moon moon, I adore you.


Angie Ledbetter said...

I howled with you last night. (Mary Ann and company were here enjoying boiled crawfish!) Your post reminds me of the poem I just wrote about a fingernail moon. ;)

Nannette Croce said...

I like the way, when I wake up at night under a full moon, the trees cast shadows across the lawn. Our first dog was a Siberian Husky. They maintain many of their lupine instincts. When there was a full moon, the dog couldn't sleep. He'd pace around from room to room all night long.

Barbara Quinn said...

I'm singing..."I see the moon, the moon sees me."

There IS something magical about ole moon!

Just Jen said...

I don't mind howling at the moon, even if I do live in the city. Every one thinks I'm a little off my rocker anyway ;)
I'm visiting from MW blog group! :D

Mary Ann said...

"Oh awe," indeed, Kat, at your entry. So grateful that you posted gratitude for the Good Friday full moon. We basked under its gentle light for hours on Angie's back porch, after she surprised us with a crawfish and shrimp invitation.

So grateful that you really do howl. Not just pretend howl but full-blown really howl from deep inside up to the mountain top and on to the moon. With a little imagination, one can almost heat you here in south Louisiana. Whaoooooo!! Whaoooooooo!!

"Oh!" we say, "Oh, good; that's Kat on her moon mountain! She sure sounds good tonight."

So grateful for my mountain friend, who writes 'til it hurts to read her feelings 'til they're inside out, who writes 'til we are rocking side by side admiring the full moon together.

Beautiful article, Kat. Just beautiful.


Anonymous said...

nice article, kat. you really are in touch with nature. ranger likes and appreciates that. keep howling.

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