"What a moon! Let's not waste it!" This is a quote from one of the rabbits of Richard Adam's Watership Down. This whole last week has been pretty much cloudless after last Sunday's all day rain. I even had to water my cucumbers, peppers and melons for the first time since early July. The best part of this stretch of clear weather has been the full moon. One night last week,when I couldn't sleep; I took a midnight walk past the cemetery to our church. The road was moonlit to the extent that you could've driven on it without car lights on. (I've done this on a few occasions, to the delight of my kids.) The stones of the cemetery shone white, punctuated by the green, blue, and red votive lights twinkling throughout the grounds. Nowadays, candles have been replaced by photo-celled multi-colored lights.) At the church, the pale light shone in through the stained-glass windows. Between that and the candles that were lit, the sanctuary was bright enough to say Mass in.
As we all know, the moon phases run through a 28 day cycle. The words "moon", "month", and "menses" are all connected. The lunar cycle is tied to fertility, sailing, hunting and fishing, not to mention agriculture. The moon is an integral part of our lives as countrymen and women. It moves us, within and without, and the closer we are to nature, the more we are in tune with its cycles. For me, the full moon is a two-week period running from the waxing half-full to waning half-full. Furthermore, for me, seeing the "God's thumbnail" of the new moon is a time of hope and expectation. I feel an affinity for the moon, as we all do, I suspect. It touches our soul, in a way that we cannot describe. I have spent many, many nights staring at the full moon and thanking God for His blessings, and asking Him for continued blessings. I end by quoting the best description I know about the full moon and moonlight. -- Gary
"We take daylight for granted. But moonlight is another matter. It is inconstant. The full moon wanes and returns again. Clouds may obscure it to an extent to which they cannot obscure daylight. . . . . We need daylight and to that extent it us utilitarian, but moonlight we do not need. When it comes, it serves no necessity. It transforms. It falls upon the banks and the grass, separating one long blade from another; turning a drift of brown, frosted leaves from a single heap to innumerable flashing fragments; or glimmering lengthways along wet twigs as though light itself were ductile. . . . In moonlight, two acres of coarse bent grass, undulant and ankle deep, tumbled and rough as a horse's mane, appear like a bay of waves, all shadowy troughs and hollows. . . . We do not take moonlight for granted. . . . And its low intensity---so much lower than that of daylight---makes us conscious that it is something added to the down, to give it, for only a little time, a singular and marvelous quality that we should admire while we can, for soon it will be gone."