It as only luck that I was on the tractor last night rolling out through the garden and along the empty grey fields,
– past the pigs field, them runing out to meet me – we’re here we’re here …
.. through the baby fellowship forest.
Along the fence-line where the the black and white herd gathered to greet me and my load of hay.
I had finished the milking, cleaned the milking room, fed the chickens, fed the pigs, topped up the waters. John was inside making something divine with shrimps and coconut milk so it was my turn to feed out.
I looked across at Lady Astor as she paused to track me wondering where I was going to leave her hay this evening and then I saw the moon. The MOON. The Moon.
When I got back inside, changed and settled to catch up on my social media I saw that pictures of the super moon were everywhere, even some of my old students were posting shot of it from New Zealand.
But at that moment while the cows stood and waited for me to begin to throw the hay over the fence I felt like I had discovered this great blonde perfectly round lantern of light all by myself. Only luck that it was me out here with open eyes. I could have had my head down in the barn and missed it.
The setting, settling sun brushed the rising moon with a smear of gentlest pink. A soft watercolor pink, if this colour had a scent it would be the merest whiff of that very old fashioned sweet talcum powder our Grandma used to use. Blousy. A middle aged muted peachy pink.
Boo and I sat and watched the hesitant young moon hover just above the horizon, gathering power from the earth he holds on a leash. We watched from the tiny tractor in our tiny field, on our tiny farm , and were very gently put into our tiny place.
Then just as quickly the setting sun released gossamer strings she had on this gladiator moon and pulling hard on his earthed leash the moon rose, hauling upwards. The warmth of the setting sun sliding off its face, and up it rose further, clean and white and old. An entity of such power surely it cannot be only a cold moon. The moon is circling close to the earth now our leash firmly in its hold, causing the tides and waters to swell higher than usual – water is heavy, can this put stress on the fault lines causing a miniscule tilt which becomes a massive grind into teethlike earthquakes? Now there is an interesting thought.
The moon is massive in its power over the earth but I am small in mine. I trail in its wake. I started up the tractor, called the dogs, said good night to the cows and we trundled back to the barn, said goodnight to Poppy and her babies. Shut the chickens door after Boo had inspected every corner for intruders.
Said good night to Sheila who always waits for the last goodnight and always grunts back.
The dogs and I walked up to the verandah littered with farming paraphenalia, ignored it all. I kicked off my gumboots, the dogs curled into their pods. I took off my jacket, pulled up my socks and as the sun disappeared altogether, leaving the moon to rise unencumbered and huge, looming above me, I went inside for dinner.
It is morning now. Dark outside. Moon has set in the West. Sun is just pinking up the horizon in the East. We are betwixt and between. The changing of the guard. This is the moment to look at the darkness and make the plans we CAN achieve. Be honest. Be kind. Be true. Be small. Be gentle with our little planet. Make that daily decision to be the best we can be. To overcome our very human pettiness. For this moment between the moon and the sun we make our wishes. But never forget how powerful the moon and the sun are. How completely important. How fragile and awesome and precious this little earth sitting between them.
Have a lovely day.
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
54 responses to “It was only luck”
I have not commented for some time, even though I have been reading along every day. Your words tonight Celi, moved me so much, I had to share them with my friends on fb. So sorry to hear of the passing of Gayle, condolences to all who knew and loved her.
Granny I missed you! So glad you are well – you are special you know! Sad about Gayle – c
I’m so pleased you caught the super moon in the course of finishing up your day. It was cloudy & showery here but perhaps tonight’s will compensate somewhat. I love the moon and its light, no matter its phase. But yes, it feels like a auspicious tme to make plans.
I’m so sad to hear of Gayle’s passing. I like to think there is Fellowship on the other side where those who have left this world are still with us in spirit ♡
All I can say is Well Said!!
It was beautiful, wasn’t it. Still is, for that matter. I, too, had luck but of a different sort. I was out in my yard, set up the tripod, chair, and cup of coffee waiting for the moon to slip past the power lines and phone cables. Just as I got the moon in focus, Nancy appeared.”Hey, John. What ya doin’?” She was on her way to pick up one of her sons and we chatted for a few minutes. She left, I got the moon back in focus, and a neighbor appeared, having just parked his car in his garage. “Hi, John. What are you doing?” The chat was followed by more focusing, a neighbor emptying the trash, more chat, more focusing, and then Nancy returned. In all, I was out there about 30 minutes before I managed to get off a single shot. The worst part of it? I didn’t care for any of the shots I managed to take from that part forward. That’s OK. I’ll try again in 2034. 🙂
What a story! – And told so niceley… ❤ Hope, you haven't caught a cold during all the wait!
Hello, Irmi! For once, I was out back wearing a jacket. I really do need to do a little research. When the supermoon returns in 2034, I want to get a better photo. I should be able to find the time to look into it. 🙂
Lovely post, CELI, AND beautiful photos!
I love how the moon didn’t even whisper, and it got our full attention. Thank you for the beautiful post.
How utterly magical. I love this sentence of yours: ‘We watched from the tiny tractor in our tiny field, on our tiny farm , and were very gently put into our tiny place.’
Here in Auckland, clouds have covered the supermoon and as you will have heard we had a giant earthquake in Kaikoura & up to Wellington. My family in Nelson were shaken and my niece went into labour and yesterday delivered a son, very fast, to the supermoon. It’s a powerful time. I’m glad there is peace on your farm.
I was a bit behind reading and was shocked to hear about Gayle’s passing away. So, so sorry. She was such a sunny person. With a heart overfilled with love… – Does anyone know what age she was? May she rest in peace, wherever she’ll be now…
Haven’t had the chance to see that beautiful moon caused by a cloudy night. Glad to see it through your lense though…
Dear Celi,
Lori told me of your pink moon when we spoke on the phone yesterday. I had missed it because I haven’t been on the internet much at all lately, not even to post on my own blog, shameful.
I am so glad that you caught such amazing images! I tried here, but the fires in Tennessee and Georgia had filled our air with thick smoke that reddened and obliterated our view of the old Sir.
Thank you for your beautiful photographs and prose to mark his appearance for those of us who missed out.
Love,
Lynda