On a starry, moonless night, there’s silence, except for some wind in the tree tops. The bare limbs of the deciduous trees – usually imposing shadows lit by the brilliant cornflower-midnight blue night sky – are almost invisible.
This moon looks like other dark moons but today’s New York times featured an announcement that 2018 was the 4th warmest year on record – the 4 warmest being within the last 4 years. I’m not a statistician but I’m pretty sure that is not normal. The planet is warming up. We could even say it has a fever.
As if to underscore the point, I saw a bird today that I’ve never seen before. The feathers of it’s head had a pretty red sheen- a kind of sparrow or finch. Not a cardinal. And not a bird I’ve ever seen here. A newcomer to my feeder. Perhaps she found her way here because of changing weather patterns? Or perhaps I’ve just never noticed her before. But that seems unlikely.
And while trees and bulbs know better than to blossom early, I see kids walking around in summer clothes when Massachusetts temps reach 55 degrees Fahrenheit in February. It’s a little surreal.
Okay, they are teenagers. Not that surreal. But, still.
The dark moon favors sleeping, letting go, decluttering. Making way for something new to grow.
Like a sense of deepening connection to the planet. A personal relationship, even.
Every thing we create and the energy we consume comes from the planet and the elements. And it returns to … the planet and the elements: the water, the air, consumed by fire, or buried in the earth.
This dark moon seems to be suggesting that we cultivate more awareness and commitment to the planet. That we let go of our need to consume every cool/adorable thing we see and maybe use less energy. Our choices about these things are choices in our relationship to the one and only planet that sustains and nurtures us.
When I bring bags to the grocery and minimize packaging I imagine I’m blowing a kiss to the Earth. And maybe not adding to the giant plastic pile floating in the middle of the ocean. It gives me a little thrill. Really.
If we break (up with) this planet I don’t think we are going to find a better one to live on.
And I am not sure she would give us a second chance.
Backyard Botanics@Miller Hill Farm 