moons and tides

The full moon hangs out over here in the mornings. If you pay close enough and long enough attention, you’ll notice the moon follows a cyclical pattern. I used to think the moon was random. One day you’d look up and there it was, in the sky, the crescent shaped white in the middle of the day. Other times you’d be driving home and WOW, there it was, as evening darkened.

It feels slightly wrong and incomplete to refer to the beautiful moon as “it”. I’d rather refer to it as “her”. I told my husband that if I weren’t a Christian, then I would’ve been a witch, or some other version of new age nature-worshipping pagan. Unsurprised, he replied, “Ya think?”, and I was pleased. It communicated, that on the great invisible skyline of souls, he knows me.

I like to hope I would’ve been a good witch, like the Good Witch of the North in the Wizard of Oz, and not one of the green, pointy hat-wearing bad ones. Here we are in October already. We’d just entered September, traveling to and from cross country meets, enjoying the scenery of Mid-Western interstates, backroads, and small town porches decorated for fall.

It does feel like life has gotten busier this school year. I’ve actually enjoyed the increased pace, as it’s picked up just enough to keep things interesting and mark life’s changes, but not too much as to overrun our lives. I’ve never thought of sports as beautiful before, but cross country is, in fact, a beautiful sport. They run outside, through the trees and through the trails.

The Cardinals made the play-offs and play again tonight. I’m still waiting for the $100+ adult-sized jersey I ordered last month for my son’s 16th birthday. I haven’t seen him much these days. He’s spent the past several evenings at Grandma and Papa’s, where he has access to cable and can watch the post-season games after practice. Last night I was in bed before he got home.

My husband picked him up last night. He made my son drive home, as he’s still got about four to five nighttime hours left before he can get his driver’s license. I’ll be honest, I’m in absolutely no rush for that to happen, though I don’t feel particularly scared of it either. My husband is the one who’s done most of the driving, the daily dropping off and the picking up from school.

We were all together to watch the debate. I wish I’d gotten a picture of us all in our pajamas, the kids with their blankets and pillows, with my phone propped up against the TV on the piano bench. Normally we’d have watched using Youtube, with the computer hooked to the TV with an HDMI cord, but our country internet connection was slow that night. I switched my phone to LTE, trusting all that data would be well-worth the memory.

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