Night ramblings and Sometimes the moon

We often walk at night dizzy under the Milky Way.  When it is pitch black and our eyes cannot see, we are guided by the textures of the drive way — the soft springy coils of Norfolk pine fronds; the stones; the grass.

 Some times the moon.

 So bright, the night, the magpies were fooled by the moon’s touch on their eyelids and woke in dawn drenched dreams, warbling.  Trees throw shadows on the illumined landscape. Cows restless and mischievous fake stampedes.  A shadow announced a false reading on the sun faced dial on the front lawn.  (August 12, 1987)

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We departed Sydney after a stay with Melanie and the boys.  The moon rose full over Bondi and remained a constant companion all night as we took turns driving.  It slumped on the horizon as the sun rose just before Albury.  (February 1988)

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Eclipse

A cloudy evening, but I keep checking, hoping for a break. Around 11pm the sky cleared for a time disclosing the moon baked terra-cotta red — a sliver of white curved like a finger nail diminishing on her western side.  I called to K—. We watched, the moon, a ripe cantaloupe, blushed orange-red. The inner fire ignited lines radiating from the umbilicus.   (June 18 1993)

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 Barcelona

We visit the Cathedral during mass and light candles for Mick and Melanie.  The organ reverberates through the dark, but warm  interior, soaked with frankincense.  The array of burning candles give out a little warmth as an evening chill descends. Nighttime is falling more quickly now.  We're feeling tired, but decide to see Gaudi’s cathedral, La Sagradia Familia, in the dark.  We hop on the underground and coming up out of the ground are treated to the awesome sight of the lit high towers and dark hollows of this Ghormenghasty, organic looking structure.  We'll come again in the daytime. 

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As they say, this unpredictable life

can be, among other things, quite beautiful.

That’s how it was the evening we looked

at you, she and I — oh, shared moon!

from Borges (The Moon)

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 The Coorong

We arrive at 24 mile crossing late afternoon, early evening.  Kim navigates the 4 wheel drive track over the lagoon area, ephemeral and empty today.  The colours are beautiful.  Purpling glassy beadwort, tussock grasses, and clean, sparkling salt pans, with an enormous steep dune between us and the ocean.  We track across the salt pan, salting our feet with crystals.  The circular pan is criss-crossed with tracks, emus, kangaroo, small birds, reptiles... 

We camp at the foot of the dune just before moon rise.  The temperature falls.  I walk up the dune.  Well, I crawl up the dune.  It’s so steep.  I laugh at my four legged animal progress and beating heart.  But as I rise, I have to remove all the clothing recently added.  The sand has held the heat of the day and radiates my face.  On the top it is warm and balmy.  I can hear the sea but still don’t know how far it is.  Thank God for the moon.  I walk across the top of the dune and there it is the sea.  As I return, Kim emerges over the top of the dune, laughing.  And we lie in the warm sand, exposed, but alone under the stars.

(March 1994)