Re-blogged from Keira, an incredibly eloquent writer, talented musician, and positive soul.
There’s the crackling of a quiet woodfire. Then crickets, close to my left, but in counterpoint also farther away to my right, and farther away still – a tremolo in the hayfields that surround us. I can hear an airplane – farthest away – a sustained roar almost entirely muffled by great distance.
It is utterly black outside – the kind of black you get when the moon is full and you’ve been staring at glowing embers in a fire pit. Every once in a while, the black that is not moon or embers is punctuated by the comma of a firefly. Ah, but I’m grateful to be alive, right here, right now, surrounded by magic.
It’s the eve of the June 2013 supermoon, almost two days in to the turning of 2013 from bright to darker, from long long days into long long nights. I am nowhere near…
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