Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.
Rainer Maria Rilke
In each of our minds there is a special file for the words, pictures, and memories that make us feel most alive when recalled. I collect faded moons there among poems and quotes that attach themselves to hems of the garment of self. These bits of mental ephemera are like talismans that protect, inspire, remind, and assure. Rilke inhabits quite a large corner of this file. He wrote thousands of long letters and knew that one must surround themselves with loving people, but that nothing was more sacred than solitude. In the last week I've been very busy, happily so, but busy enough to feel like I haven't done one thing completely from beginning to end. No matter how many lines I drew through my list, each accomplishment felt empty. I blame it on that moon up there. What a doozy. I am confident I am not alone in feeling her effects.
The symphony of night was playing softly, the nesting phoebe on the porch rustling on her eggs, the frogs singing arias, the wind chiming the pine cones under the boughs reflected in the moon, and I was awed by it all. Clicking the shutter, I added another moon to my collection. This April moon will always remind me there is solitude to catch your breath and center your heart, even if only for a few moments. Finding it might be harder than you think, but recognizing you're experiencing it is a satisfying accomplishment; one to be savored completely from beginning to end.