I watched the clouds roll in from my window. Disappointment also rolled in. I wanted to see the moon rise. There are few things more gorgeous than a full moon rise on a prairie horizon. This was going to be the Full Pink Moon. Not sure who names them but that feels as soft as candy floss.
I finished all my tasks, ate quickly, and headed out of town. The road I took is getting busier than it used to be. There are all sorts of street lights that weren’t there before. This road also has one of those invasive electronic billboards. No thank you.
I kept driving, and took a turn onto a more quiet road. I continued driving this road until I found an inviting field. Clear all around. A flat and unobtrusive panorama. Unfortunately the clouds dug their atmospheric heels in. They weren’t going anywhere.
My eyes searched the horizon from the seat of my car. I heard the geese fly by, but the sky was solid cotton baton.
Words of encouragement
My self talk kicked in. Here’s what I told myself:
It looks like you may not be getting what you came out here for Angie. And you can’t change the forecast. What you can do is take a minute to be here. Good advice self. Thank you. You’re welcome.
Apparently my self talk turned into a wee bit of a dialogue. I rolled down the windows, took the key out of the ignition. I turned the radio off and got comfortable breathing in the cool evening air.
Hi moment. Here I am.
I pushed back into the car seat and listened. I listened to the geese honk overhead. I heard the tall grass rustle. I heard the hum of distant traffic. I watched the grey clouds get darker and darker. The sun was setting behind them.
The air was crisp.
The city lights began to pop up on the horizon.
I opened a sky view app. It could at least direct me to where the moon would have come up if the sky were clear. The rest was up to my imagination which is pretty good most of the time. My car was pointed straight in the direction of the moon rise just in case I was able to see it.
I felt the tense edge of the day slip away in that field as I sat staring ahead. The dark baton of cloud had a subtle, noticeable bright orange glow. Was it the moon? Did the clouds part enough for me to see
the super shy orb?
I jumped out of my car with my not so fancy point and shoot camera, like a pictorial weapon of love pointing in the direction of the moon. Little by little the pink moon, very golden, (odd) peaked out from behind the curtain of cloud. And then the whole big round thing sat there, right in front of me, an orange-gold disk.
Hey there pretty lady. I spoke out loud.
Not too long after the moon was gone behind the clouds and I was happy. Even if the moon hadn’t made an appearance I would not have been disappointed. I had a nice drive, fresh air, quiet time. I felt the vibe outside of the city. Seeing the moon ended up being the bonus. The prize for my good attitude.
That ball in the sky found a crack and appeared. Like Leonard Cohen says “that’s how the light gets in.”
The lesson of patience, the lesson of presence, and the lesson of acceptance were taught by the full moon.