Raising the rising moon begins early, before the heat of sun holds it down. Commerce, with its attendant travelers, moves about the day, not noticing nature’s rising and receding, not noticing the receiving and returning rhythm of breath. It is not until the full moon rises into the night lighthouse that the weary ones, the waking ones, stop and watch for just a moment, to take in the wonder of the rising.
☽
this is very, very nice. the moon goes about its business unseen, unnoticed. and then comes the night. very nice.
ReplyDeleteYes, our craft is to notice the detail of the seemingly insignificant.
DeleteI am in love with this image, both the art and the one painted by your words. She is always there, somewhere, our moon, waiting to be noticed.
ReplyDeleteThanks, I used to incorporate this sort of composite photography into my collage, but think I'll let them stand on their own. I combine my own images with bits of early 1900’s photographs. I think there are 15 layers in this one.
DeleteI love the image of the weary ones pausing to take in the wonder. I find that wonder is what eases fatigue and soothes pain. Your writing is always so evocative and so resonant. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteYou are so right. When I am most weary, I take a moment on the cedar bench and simply listen; the green frog near the valley branch, the rattling wrens in the redbud tree, even the distant dogs up on the ridge road; all of it a wonder, scattered east and west, yet all connected to me. That wonder eases my worry, and lifts me from my bench, weary no more.
Deletewhat an interesting and lovely space you have here.
ReplyDelete