February full moon musing

Silent, steady, the full moon rises, higher and higher above the Valley of the Moon. From my perch at the top of North Signal, I watch in awe. She is so still, so brimming with light, brighter and brighter each time I glance up. The mountains too stand steady in their strength and abiding solitude. All I can do is root my feet, take a deep breath, and allow myself to feel the moment.


The full moon casts a spell of enchantment on the valley. You can wander the trails and streets by the light of the moon and see—but not be seen, except by wild animals. For just a little window of time, you can shed the years and wander carefree, letting your dogs take the lead. You pass houses where you lived long ago . . . you walk a trail that you once followed, on a moonlit night like this, wearing a flowing, white, hippie wedding dress, when you were young and slender and had no idea how beautiful you were . . . when you poured your hopes and dreams into a man who later confessed he was drawn to you like a moth to a flame. But even making love by the light of the moon couldn’t cast out his memories of Vietnam . . .

3 Responses to “February full moon musing”

  1. Alison Says:

    Whoa, Free Spirit… remind me not to drink out of that reservoir…

    “…as we walk toward the reservoir, toward the lilting, haunting sound of birds calling, toward the symphony of living, holy water. My Pentecostal background rears its head and I consider baptizing myself, but the day is too cold. Instead, I wade into the mossy cool water, close my eyes, and listen to the water’s song. …”

    Very poetic, but dogs and people do not belong in the drinking water.


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