Full Moon

Early Saturday evening a most unexpected visitor came knocking on my back door. It wasn't the usual northeast wind or horizontal rain or my twenty-seven starving cats. Nor was it a hungry heron, a Canada goose or a herd of savage fiddler crabs a next-door neighbor coming over to borrow a cup of flour.

It was a gorgeous, gorgeous moon.

Let your eyes wander slowly from that moon up high down to the horizon which slowly turns from pink to blue.

"The water is my tranquilizer," is my new favorite saying, but the water plus a sunset plus a full moon? That's Heaven on Earth.

The more I'm here and the lazier older I get, the more I hate leaving even to go to the next county over for whatever item might be required from civilization, although I must say that there's nothing civilized about Wal-Mutant, or Route 17.

Anyway, Mondays--which are not especially popular with most people to begin with--are particularly difficult for me. It isn't just the getting up and going to work, but it's the leaving part. Just leaving the county is drudgery. Even if I had the same hour-long commute but could stay within the confines of this county, I'd be fine with that.

Instead, the car takes me from this rural retreat to the urban jungle which becomes more and more repulsive every time I see it. Toss in the monotony and, quite frankly, the ridiculosity (it's a word) of my paying job, and you'll know why I would never want to leave here.

Once you have heard the lark, known the swish of feet through hill-top grass and smelt the earth made ready for the seed, you are never again going to be fully happy about the cities and towns that man carries like a crippling weight upon his back. ~Gwyn Thomas

To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter; to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring - these are some of the rewards of the simple life. ~John Burroughs

Take one full moon rising over the creek, add the scent of cold air mixed with salt water and a hint of a brush fire off in the distance. Sprinkle generously with the absence of sound except for the heartbeat of the universe and the calls of the occasional bird. This is the recipe for Calm. To achieve the opposite result, throw in a Monday, a commute to the city, and a day full of ridiculosity. (It really is a word.) - Chesapeake Bay Woman

May your day be filled with calm and not ridiculosity. (Seriously, it's my life a word.)