In honor of St. Patrick’s Day, there’s mist and green, and birds chirping and tweeting in greeting and meeting.
Late afternoon yesterday a Great Blue Heron swept over our heads as we sat outside. Later, I heard a noise and went outside to check. It was the moon. The moon wasn’t rising noisily. Our neighbor was pulling garbage cans up to the street, but it brought me out to the beauty happening right here, this moving light, an orb brightening the sky as the earth turns and journeys around the sun.
The full moon rises tonight, the Worm Moon, announcing the arrival of spring.
Perhaps it’s the wiggle I feel, the wiggle of worms opening the earth to aerate and breathe.
There’s a stirring inside, an impulse led by light.
I settle, allowing roots to stretch and test, balancing a nest of rest, a cradle for eggs and birth. Heart knows the moon, a shared caress.