"Life is not about surviving the storm; it's about how you danced in the rain." ~ author unknown

Dec 17, 2011

Moonshadow & Meteor Showers


“Now I’m being followed by a moonshadow….”    ~Cat Stevens     

Why do I always hydrate at night?  Actually, I keep myself pretty well hydrated all day so it shouldn’t come as any great surprise to me when I need to get up at 2 or 3 or 4 in the morning to, “water the porcelain,” as a friend of mine might say.  I’m always grateful to be up though, as it gives me an opportunity to look out the window, to gaze outdoors which is where I really long to be.    

Last night’s full moon rose at 4:30PM and set at 7:03AM.  The 2 sliders in the corner of my kitchen, facing east and north, allow for a great view of it when it rises and this time of year, with the leaves off the trees, it is particularly pleasing to me to see the moon through the silhouetted trees.  There is just something very appealing about it, something very calming.  The bare branches of the trees against the sky and the moon high and bright in the sky are stunning by themselves but when the moon is still low and shinning through the trees, it’s just beautiful.     It was an extremely clear night.  I had to pull myself away from the kitchen sliders when I realized I’d been standing there, just staring at the moon through the trees for more than a few minutes.  Can’t stand there all night, after all.  Would that I could though; would that I could!   

So when I woke in the night, closer to morning actually at around 4:30 I think, I found myself again looking outside, staring out the bathroom window.  My window faces NNE and the moon would have been in the west, getting low in the sky, 2 ½ hours before it would be dipping below the horizon.  Although I couldn’t see the moon directly, it cast long magnificent shadows of the trees in my backyard.  It was so bright out, yet the sky still dark with twinkling stars.  Objects outside were eerily illuminated as in some sort of surreal fairy tale or dream.  The clear moonlit sky with the grass and stonewalls so brightly lit, really made the long shadows of the trees just jump right out.  Immediately upon looking outside at this spectacular sight, I said out loud to myself; “moonshadow!”  And I have had this Cat Stevens song in my head ever since!  Good thing I like Cat Stevens.  Gotta love the Cat!     

Now, a few days later, as I continue to write this post I am still “leaping and hopping on a moonshadow.”  I much prefer this new tune than the last one that I had stuck in my head! 

I had forgotten to mention that there was a lunar eclipse on the night of the full moon.  This would have been in the western sky in “the wee small hours of the morning” on Saturday 12/10.  I had gotten my dates mixed up and thought it was going to be the following night and so I missed it.  My big sis in Seattle (ok, actually she lives in Ellensburg which is 90 minutes east of Seattle but really, doesn’t saying “sis in Seattle” just sound better?!  Sorry Bon!) said that we in the northeast wouldn’t have been able to see it anyway.  And when I talked to my son in Cambridge, who studied Astrophysics and has a master’s degree in physics, he said, “what eclipse?”  Apparently this lunar eclipse wasn’t such a big deal but I still sure would like to have seen it.  I saw one last year which was pretty cool.  The moon doesn’t disappear in the earth’s shadow but rather, it turns this pale orange color which is really spooky to see and so out of place when the moon is up high in the sky.  When the moon is low and rising it often appears orange which is what you’d expect, though.  Lunar eclipses aren’t that rare and of course there is the famous eclipse on the night the Red Sox won the World Series in 2004.  I guess that’s what the Sox needed; the sun and earth and moon to align just right in order for them to win and break the curse of the Bambino.  Done and done!

This brings to mind the solar eclipse I saw with my family in 1972.  It was in the summer and I was 15.  We traveled alot in the summers because my Dad was a teacher and had the summers off.  We had a school bus that he converted into a most excellent camper.  So we drove out to P-town on the Cape where we would be in the penumbra of the eclipse; not quite “total” from our view point but totally awesome.  The total eclipse could be seen in Nova Scotia.  This is the eclipse made famous in the Carly Simon song, “You’re So Vain.”   You know it: “Then you flew your Learjet up to Nova Scotia to see the total eclipse of the sun.”  Additionally, in Steven King’s “Delores Claiborne,” which was set and filmed in Nova Scotia, Delores Claiborne (played by the incomparable Kathy Bates) famously leads her husband to a trap where he falls down a deep abandoned well, during this very same total eclipse, and leaves him there to die.  The incestuous bastard really deserved it.  (Have you seen the movie?)  I do like the actor who played the character though and I love Kathy Bates.  And I like the famous line, “sometimes being a bitch is all a woman has to hang on to,” and, “sometimes an accident can be an unhappy woman’s best friend.” 

Anyway, the eclipse that my sisters, Mom and Dad and I witnessed was an unbelievable sight.  As the light began to fade I remember birds flitting about, as if caught off guard and unprepared, hurrying to nest for the “night.”  I remember shadows from trees and telephone poles and other objects, taking on odd shapes.  When the sun is low, near to setting, shadows grow long of course.  But, the sun was high in the sky and it was a clear day; no clouds.  So when the moon began to pass in front of the sun, I just remember noticing how odd the shadows were and how different the light seemed.  The light was fading quickly, to near black, from directly above rather than from the horizon and resulting effect was like nothing else I had ever seen before.  It was breath taking.  Although I hadn’t thought about this in a long time, I remember this now today, nearly 40 years later, so clearly, as if it were just yesterday.  I remember the gulls screeching, the breeze in the air, the warmth of the sun, my sisters and all the other folks who gathered, craning their necks to see the sun disappear overhead and the magnificent corona created by the eclipse. 

If you ever get the opportunity to see such an event, I highly recommend it.      

Now this brings me to Tuesday night; 12/13/11.  I was thrilled when I realized that I would be treated to the Geminids meteor shower and that I wouldn’t have to drag myself out of bed at 3 AM to see it.  I could go out at 9 or 10.  Perfect!  I had, in past years, dragged myself out of bed to bear witness to such events, only to be disappointed by overcast skies or to find that I had somehow managed to arrive too late for the party and there was nothing to see.  Tuesday night was a clear gorgeous night.  I was under the mistaken impression that I had to view the meteors in the eastern sky.  Well, I have a view to my east but not in the lower sky, only up higher.  I didn’t know exactly where in the east to look so I decided to hop in my car and drive the 2 ½ miles down the road where I knew I could see the entire eastern sky with no obstructions.  I drove down Flanders Rd and pulled over just opposite of the field where the cows are, put on my flashers and hopped out of the car.  I used the compass on my IPhone to be sure I was looking east and I was.  It wasn’t cold out at all.  Maybe 40 degrees.  It was about 9 o’clock now.

I should say here that for the past few nights, prior to this, I had been enjoying the moon rises and the bright moonlight, as I had earlier written.  This very bright moon created a problem Tuesday night.  Moon rise was at 7:32 PM and now, at 9, not only was this big beautiful orb smack in the middle of my viewing field; it was washing out the entire eastern sky.  The stars were so faint on this moonlit night that I wondered whether or not I would be able to see meteors.  After looking into the sky for 10 minutes or so with no luck, I decided to head back.  I had no regrets.  The night was absolutely gorgeous.  I could have stayed out for hours.

When I pulled back into my driveway I checked the news article about the Geminids on my IPhone.  It turns out that the meteors would be visible in any part of the sky not just in the east.  You see, it pays to read the whole article and not just skim.  Lesson learned.  I got out of the car, leaning my back against it now and looking toward the southern part of the night sky.  I immediately saw my first “shooting star.”  It lasted no longer than one second and was just a streak.  I   kept watching and saw another.  Now I’m hooked.  The Geminids, though, promised to be a show of big fireballs with visible flames streaking across the sky for several seconds at a time and with huge magnificent tails trailing behind.  My youngest son told me of such a meteor he saw a few months back.  I watched patiently, hopeful and excited now.  I wanted my fireball.

Six, seven, eight “shooting stars” but no fireballs.  Oh well.  It had only been 10 minutes and I realized that the near full moon that I had worshipped all week was just not going to let this spectacular show unfold.  I loved seeing the meteors, though.  I mean, on an ordinary night when I am just looking at the sky and I happen to see a shooting star, I am just thrilled beyond words.  It’s just so exciting.  And now I’ve just seen 8! 

I decided to call it a night, hopeful now that at least 1 of my 8 wishes would come true.   

Dec 7, 2011

Magical Moments

Author’s Note:  I wrote this nearly 20 years ago to the day, inspired by my son to do so.  I think of it as a love letter to my son.  I never showed it to him or anyone until the day he left for college.  I realized that since I wrote this for him that I’d better give it to him so I put it an envelope and tucked it away with his things for college.  After getting him all moved into his dorm, I told him I had left a letter in an envelope for him and to wait to read it ‘till after I had left.  I later had it “published,” anonymously, in my town’s monthly magazine and 2 other towns that had similar monthly magazine.  The editor told me that she had been moved to tears when she read my work and she urged me to put my name to it.  I’m not sure why I didn’t.  At any rate, if you are a parent I think that this will resonate with you.  I have also written a story for my youngest son but it still needs tweaking.  I hope you enjoy this.  Please post a comment to let me know! 

“The love between a mother and child knows no bounds.”   

We’re laughing as we hurry up the front porch steps and into the kitchen filling it with the scents of cold, crisp, smoky air.  These traces of winter will soon give way to the aroma of freshly baked cookies.  Chocolate chip, butterscotch and oatmeal.  I rush over to the stove, turning on the oven and he hangs up his coat on the lower hook in the corner of the kitchen by the door.  We sit down at the kitchen table to catch our breath.  It’s not that we’re in a hurry, but rather, filled with excitement and anticipation and anxious to began the next part of our annual tradition on this Christmas Eve night; the baking of Christmas cookies for Santa.  I secretly think of it as the making of magical moments for my son and me. 

Our cookies won’t be the fancy holiday kind baked in anticipation of seasonal guests.  In fact, these cookies aren’t fancy at all and so rarely does anyone ever visit.  These are special cookies nonetheless, baked with much love and care for someone who we know will be making a stop at our home on a very busy and magical night.  

Having just come from the candle light service at church, the first part of our tradition, the tune of Silent Night is still in our heads and we find ourselves singing it out loud together.  I turn on the Christmas lights on the tree and the star, blinking a silent code-like rhythm above us like a beacon, is lighting up candy canes, wooden horses, glass ornaments and homemade snowflakes all strategically placed by 5-year old hands on the lower branches of the tree.  The TV is on in the living room but we don’t hear it as we go about our work in the kitchen.  We’re singing Christmas carols and we giggle as we sing a little off key.  I make up the words here and there when I’ve forgotten them.  As I tell my son that these are  made up words now and that I promise to find out the actual correct words, he looks up at me through deep blue eyes that were his great grandfather’s.  Eyes that, only moments ago, were beaming with excitement, are piercing now and puzzled.  How could it be that I don’t know the words when he’s always believed that I know everything?  Slowly, he’s catching on to me and I tell that there are a few things that I don’t know after all!  He smiles when I tell him this.  His love for me is as pure and unconditional as mine is for him; as only there can be between a mother and a child.  I give him a wink as our eyes meet and his face lights up the room.  This signal we share; unspoken yet just as loud and urgent as the church bells that beckon to me on Sunday mornings, strengthens the bond between us in a way that words, so inadequate and limiting, never could.  A wink; so simple yet significant.  So fleeting!  I savor this moment, already now a memory.  I cherish this night, so magical in so many ways. 

Three cookies and a carrot sit, lovingly arranged by my son, on a saucer on the hearth alongside a cold glass of milk.  I put two of the cookies back and take several bites out of the third before placing it back on the saucer and I drink three quarters of the milk.  I break off a large piece of the carrot and put it away in the fridge.  I nibble around the remaining end of the carrot and place it on the saucer with the cookie.   

It is well after midnight now as I tip toe up the stairs and look in on my son on my way to bed, as I’ve done every night for the past 5 ½ years.  As he lay there sleeping, looking so precious and small in his big bed, I listen to him breathing and I already know how truly blessed I am.  I can’t help but wonder how many more magical moments we’ll share.  I know eventually that he’ll prefer the company of his friends rather than the company of his mother, as well he should.  I press me lips gently to his forehead, so cool and smooth, and as I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of his hair I say a prayer thanking God for my son and entrusting me with his childhood.  I pray for patience, guidance and wisdom in the years ahead and I pray for the strength to let him go when the time comes.  And finally, I pray that he’ll remember our moments together even long after I’m a memory, and that perhaps he’ll be inspired to make magical moments with his own child someday.  But for now, the timer on the coffee pot is set for 6:00 AM and as I climb into bed, I’m looking forward to more magical moments in the morning.