Hay moon

   I can feel my heart rhythmically beating in my chest. I am enamoured with the precisely round and full moon in the deepening blue sky. She caught my eye tonight and I cannot stop staring. Her many expressions morphing as her intense light fills my eyes. Like an iris on a camera, my gaze opens and receives.

The first full moon of the summer. Time of cutting the first hay. Our neighbours recruited us for extra help baling their hay for horses. We gratefully joined in the gratifying hard work — a sense of history and purpose pumping through our veins. How did generations ago accomplish this without farming technology? With many hands. 

It is so grounding and comforting to know what to do by the cycle of the moon. She tells us when to prepare, plant, harvest… connecting us to generations ago. To our ancestors. The rhythm of the earth. To what we as a culture, a generation, need most right now: deep nature connection. Sitting with a quiet mind in nature. Listening to the birds. Honouring seasons, permaculture and cycles. Wildcrafting and conserving, preserving.

Because from there stems knowing (and loving) our place in the intricate web of life, of belonging to the land, of being in relationship with the winged, four-leggeds, two-leggeds… We don’t have to reinvent anything. Some are calling it rewilding. Regenerative. Rewind. Reconnect. Each moon cycle is an opportunity to start now. 

“I know when the sun goes down it’s gonna rise on the other side…”

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2 thoughts on “Hay moon

    • Yes, particularly when she caught my eye that night I worried about “what next” and searched the Internet. Then I went outside and took her all in. Can’t wait to hear more from your adventures!

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