Moon Gardening

No, I’m not planting moons but what a lovely idea. Last night I opened my curtains before I went to bed and there looking in at me was the moon. Why is it I sleep better knowing the moon is shedding her light across me in the night? When I wake up because the moonlight is too bright I get an immediate glow and I feel comforted knowing she is there watching me. I could shut the curtains and many would ask why I keep them open, I hate to feel claustrophobic. When I lived in the farm village we never shut the curtains or the windows, winter and summer alike and the night entered my room like a fresh new life every day. Stars shone on a clear night so brightly and so  many there was barely room for the sky, clouds painted silhouetted images as they drifted across the crystal moon, at times there were haloes round her, red or blue, as she hung suspended a swinging orb in an ultramarine sea, owl calls echoed in the valley, creatures rustled and snuffled in the hedgerows, insects rasped and scuttled, cows chewed the cud, their bellies gurgling and belching above the quieter nightsongs and a whole new world existed outside my window. Why, oh why would I shut it out? Since moving to the town I still have my crtains and windows open. The difference is I have to switch the light off before I open the curtains and the night life in the town means an occasional urban fox barking in the street for her cubs, but mostly dogs barking, people singing or fighting on the way home from the pub, talking too loud with voices from drunken mouths that don’t communicate with their ears, cars and bikes screaming down the road in such a hurry. But sometimes, when the sky is clear and even though light pollution hides the stars, the moon smiles her light across my face as I lie in bed and I remember.

I wrote about time and space a little while ago and the town proves my theory. In the country any less than a hundred and eighty degrees of sky was crowded, the Downs extended my garden for miles and miles. Forests became my perimeter, air was breathable and fresh and time drifted slowly and easily. Here in the town, everything is so fast. Even the old folks no longer amble up the road for their pint in the local pub, pubs are too crowded and noisy and unfriendly here, they whiz about on electric scooters at far greater speed than they would walk and no one, but no one speaks even to say good evening. No -one slows down enough to notice anyone else let alone speak. Time does speed up when space is short, I am convinced of it.

So you see, it may not sound, smell or feel the same but when I sleep with my windows and curtains open, when the deep night has fallen silent and the moon shines in my window, sometimes I forget where I am and remember warm country nights and the cacophony of night sounds that sang me to sleep.

To me the moon is my comforter and companion, I share a special moment in my thoughts with a friend, a man who sees, and lives in the same moment as me when the moon touches our lives. Tomorrow the full moon tells me that I can plant onions and they will grow their best, in another week the moon phase will be best for growing carrots. Tomorrow, if the night is clear, I shall not need a light to see my way up the garden path and I shall stand bathed in her light and dream. It would be so wonderful to be able to plant moons, moons that gave me the same feeling I had on warm summer evenings in the country when shooting stars made wishes come true and dreams were real, like waking up on holiday every day. Instead I shall plant my onions and carrots in pots in my tiny garden and thank the moon for her advice and my friend Bobby for that connection with a wonderful world that now only exists in letters from a friend and in dreams beyond my reach, beyond the moon.

1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    West Sussex Moon Man said,

    Still was the moon that night. Still and steady without a hush of sound to distrube thoughts and feelings – I thought of you, watching in the cool of the night and wondered if you were with me in spirt. Then the cloud covered my thoughts and a restless night followed me into a troubled sleep. All I had to hold onto was the thought of you listening.

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