Moonwalking in July

Quote of the day...(In response to yesterday's blog)

"I can't imagine who would feel that God hands out problems for sin.....If that were the case everybody everywhere would be in big trouble. It can be almost impossible to see at times, but sometimes things happen simply because they do. And God doesn't get you out of it, He gets you through it." Frank in Missouri...

Last night I kept waiting for the moon to show her damn face. First I stood in the house. Then I took off out of the house, walking along the cliff. Stir crazy and restless, me and the moon, we got talking to do.

Seeing as how sleep's been allusive now for the better part of a year, it figures that tonight she'd be late. I can't help but stare down the Idaho ridgelines, the gem state's version of the Selkirk Range, wondering when she'll rise. Me and that just-passing-through lady of the sky, we've gotten close.

Some would say too close.

I know a psychic in Alberta, a wise woman, who from all accounts has lived more than a few lifetimes. Dianne always alerts me to the moon's arrival. She sees the moonrise first, stretching out over the remains of Saskatchewan. Dianne up there on the prairies, me down south of the border but on lookout from the high country, Dianne and I we've been sharing accounts of the moon for years-whether in detailed journals of moonbeams on snow, or moon under attack from the northern lights.

Oh and for the record, I think the moon...well, she's definitely a she. The moon is all gorgeous silky babe, and sometimes she-devil, depending on the night. Especially when she's full of herself, reflecting on everything. Her all glimmering, shimmering on the water. Demanding attention- like she's so special. Pouting hard when fan tail clouds distort her beauty. That moon goddess is always way too happy to light up the heavens, especially as the right marine layer rolls in, gliding over the desert from the coast.

Water stands guard for the moon, stuck as her spellbound, captive prisoner. Capturing her light, the water reminds me of a groupie, reflecting illumination back and then some. No matter whether the water is calm or roused, the rivers, lakes, bays and oceans multiply her light. Acting like reverse dance partners, the moon and her constant companion, still waters seemed joined. Wherever Moon leads, water follows. Always in step, their waltz is perfect. The water side of this equation never seeks the spotlight. Water seems resolved and accepting, acting humbly as the eternal back up chorus. Indeed water isn't allowed to absorb light. It's all about reflection.

I know I go off on this nature stuff way too much.

I'm not as objective as I should be. I'm way too fond of my river, bragging on her all the time. I can't help it. The Pend Oreille has always been my bridge over troubled waters. Ever since I was young and my grandparents hustled me along her shores and her tributarties, the Clark Fork, the Flathead, the Bull, and the Pack Rivers. Or there's Lake Pend Oreille or up toward Sullivan Lake and Sheep Creek-these waters that flow in and out of this area, they all become one in my mind.

My friends know all about my take on sleepless in Pend Oreille and my moon walks. They know about the pacing at 2 am eternal, agile and nervous, me staring out over the cliffs. Trying to settle in for the night but addicted and watching over the valley instead. I savor my moon time, just me and the full moon. She-demon'd up again while I'm helpless, reflecting back her light just like the river. Trance like, I trace the Coyotes call, sitting still and hearing their progress, echoing down across the broad flat river banks. They have their own social date with that ghosted silver sphere.

Sometimes the coyotes come up close, just beyond the light, talking back at the night sky. Yipping and yapping while I sit there sipping coffee. Coyotes drown everything else out in their shrill conversations. Yet sometimes in the hush, I hear the geese stir and the bullfrogs go at it. Soon enough the moon has had enough. Hushing them coyotes, the bulls frogs and the geese, the moon reclaims front and center, insisting that it's her damn stage. She won't tolerate talk back from the audience.

This particular cycle of the moon, I've been watching her journey. When she was all new moon, she teased and toyed with my anticipation. Going crescent, she'd hint and preen and then she'd tuck herself in, sliding over the hills toward Dalkena. Later, she got bold and started dirty dancing way up high, as if trying to get Mars to pay attention. I knew better though. Her dancing like that wasn't for Mars...

It was for me.

I can't help but think that the moon and I gotta stop meeting like this. The neighbors are gonna' talk. During that whole full moon business last week, I barely slept and I looked haggard. My adopted mom told me I looked like hell. Nope, I am just moonbeamed I thought, but I didn't dare say it. Adopted mom's might not understand or tolerate a guy like me getting too artsy or weird. My affair with the moon seemed best left a secret. Until now.

My friend Billy Bob was here visiting from Seattle several of those nights. We made camp fire and teased the moon back with our own brilliant fire ring, those sparks dancing up toward the big dipper as if they were fired up on Meth. Billy Bob fell under the moon's gaze and for a few nights he never turned in but stayed out until dawn. Blushed, flirting with the lingering twilight, he had words with the world while the moon kept track.

Staying awake like this, even when I'm exhausted, I feel alive. I recognize that all of this moon biz is just another take on the theme of endlessly just passing through- and as I gaze down on the river and the coyotes return to make a ruckus, I can still see her as she peaks over the summit of the Selkirks. Finally, once again she's back. But tonight the Moon's not nearly as full of herself.

Then again, neither am I. Sleep is calling, and the restless spirit of July shall soon turn to August. I can hardly wait.

Prayer Requests:

Prayers of Thanks- We finally heard from Chris in London yesterday. David writes that his medical procedure and tests came back fine.

Ongoing prayers...

For the lady in Montana who had an experimental procedure, shunts put in her brain to deal with a rare disorder that mimics Alzheimer's. She is doing far better, but still has a way to go.

For health requests please keep Mark, Cathy, Keith, Chris and Stacy in your prayers. For comfort during loss, please remember Richard, Janet, Josh and Paul.


LINKS!
...Sex with animals and the now infamous "horse" column is STILL the talk of Seattle...
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2002402181_brodeur26m.html

...Republican CIA Official lashes out at President Bush for CIA Leak...
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/national/apwashington_story.asp?category=1153&slug=Democrats%20CIA%20Leak

...Doubts cast on existence of new HIV virus superstrain...
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,163614,00.html

...Priests can marry gay folk but can't indulge themselves...
http://www.365gay.com/newscon05/07/072505anglican.htm

...The White House gets tangled up in another distortion, this time centering on Supreme Court nominee judge Roberts...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26tue3.html?th&emc=th

...Two stories out of Africa...both quite chilling...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26kristof.html?th&emc=th
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26tue2.html?th&emc=th

...Another example of the hypocrisy of "free markets" especially when applied to cowboys and tree huggers...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26tierney.html?th&emc=th

...Jerry Falwell promotes forced internment of gay young adults in "Ex Gay" camps...
http://www.southernvoice.com/thelatest/thelatest.cfm?blog_id=1745

...Mayor West Recall goes before Washington State Supreme Court on August 24...City attorney assigned to handle case, resigns.
http://www.spokesmanreview.com/jimwest/story.asp?ID=072505_recall