Time is strange, it stretches out before us and crowds up behind us. It is the long space of self-reckoning and the unnoticeable swiftness of an exhaled breath. An explanation always sought, never understood.
The above picture is the view from my garden last night. The moon has always been comforting to me, I’m not sure why; maybe it’s its constancy, quietly shining without burning; a guileless silver. Maybe it’s the face – I always thought the face in the moon seemed sad, but that she smiled knowingly through the sadness.
Before I lose myself in personification and a fairy tale…there’s mixed feelings, of course. About leaving. And there’s not a much better explanation that I can give on that front.
But tonight, take a good long look at the moon, and see if she looks back into you.