Last night, sleep was difficult. The wild sounds of nature filled our little cottage. Not sure what exactly – tree frogs, crickets, birds, owls, werewolves…. With only a flimsy screen door separating me from unseen critters, I pretended to be camping, in style…
I imagine the sounds to be those of the late night zoo. Or the deep jungle plus exuberant schnauzers minus howler monkeys.
No air conditioner noise, no traffic, no sirens or airplanes, no sounds of Dallas. Only nature. The twinkle of stars. The rustle of leaves turning.
Lucy and Annabelle were wide-eyed and excited. In and out, in and out. Up and down off the bed.
The moon, almost full, cast shadows to go with the sounds. A grain moon or sturgeon moon according to Farmer’s Almanac. Stirring the dirt and crops, rousing the nocturnal creatures a bit more? The trees were luminous.
I thought of family and friends. Each resting under a different roof. Across the country or across town, but under the same sky. Same moon.
– Neil Armstrong