When I was a small child I learned the moon was magic. It had a mighty power and we needed to revere it. This I concluded in my child brain as I sat on the hood of my grandpa’s sky blue Ford in velvety darkness and watched the light beams from the headlamps shoot out across the massive garden where my grandma walked behind a rented mule plowing. I sat in my underpants watching intently. As I grew tired I lay down and looked at the mighty sky filled with sparkling stars. This was a routine repeated on full moons and moonless nights alike.
Whatever miraculous activity Grandma pursued, her life was always directed by the moon. Each phase informed her as to how to proceed. And she made it clear in her every action to respect nature and to revel in its wonders and to accord the greatest respect to our natural world, from the smallest star to the fullest moon. This series is about reverence, and about honoring our natural world. It is a thank you letter to my grandma, for the gift she left me.
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