Last night as I was making supper I happened to glance out the window and noticed a beautiful moon rising in the east.
|Zoomed in a little - the Islander is in the background.|
All of a sudden, I felt a rush of relief and exclaimed, "Aha!!"
Now it all made sense.
My feelings of melancholy, my case of The Blahs. They could all be explained away by this seemingly innocent looking, perfectly beautiful, full moon.
Whether there's any scientific proof or not, my anecdotal evidence is enough to convince me I am deeply impacted by the full moon. When my son was born--during a full moon--all the frantic nurses were busy blaming the moon for their overflowing maternity ward. At work the craziest things often happen during full moons. It's not at all unusual for me to know it's a full moon without actually knowing it for a fact--based on crazy stuff that tends to happen all of a sudden, in clusters. "Must be a full moon," is something I often say.
It's no coincidence that the Spanish word for moon, la luna, is so close to the English word lunacy.
To me it doesn't really matter if the moon is responsible for my recent bout of The Winter Blahs or not. Last night it just felt good to blame the moon and know instantly that, just like the full moon, this is a temporary state. Bound to return at some point but definitely not lasting forever.
In short, I'd just like to thank this particularly beautiful full moon over Queens Creek for providing a temporary explanation and serving as my scapegoat.