– my lonesome friend –
I have always thought of the moon as my friend. As funny as it sounds, the statement is simple and true. When the sun has departed and for an instant, the world seems barren I can step out into the desolate street and see the moon. In a moment when I feel most abandoned, most vulnerable, most lonesome, I can look up in the night sky and bask in the moonlight.
November 3, 2017: The Beaver Moon.
Until last Saturday, adventure was a mere dream. It was something for the older, the responsible, the outgoing. It involved money, luggage and plane tickets. Planning, people, and professionalism. I always believed that it was beyond my grasp. This all was until the moon.
Driving down the road, as the sun was departing and the night was beginning its reign, my eye met it. I saw it for all of its beauty. I stared down the Beaver Moon. November’s first full moon, the Beaver Moon, bears an orange glow that is both dramatic and tranquil, calling the eye outside, up from phones, and around one’s shoulder. For me, it was a call to go. To go explore and seek. To bask in the Beaver Moon.
So I ran. With exuberance, I ran. Towards the moon, my lonesome friend, I ran. Only lasting and hour or so, my heart took off. Not a moment too soon, I arrived. An open clearing where the world seemed to freeze. A moment captured while the moon drifted overhead. And in that moment of serenity, with the darkness closing in, I was not lonely. I knew the moon was not as well. For that moment in time, before the clouds took it away, it was raw, beautiful, awe-inspiring.
So the moon is my friend, and I know it sounds possessive. The moon belongs to everyone. It reflects over all of earth. Every inhabitant dances in its light, yet to me, it is my friend. In these small moments, when our heart seeks adventure, the moon is the friend to guide the way.
Alone in the universe yet whole in my heart, the moon is my friend, whether near or apart.
“The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to.” – Carl Sandburg