Friday Ramble - The Hunter's Moon of October

In October, Lady Moon is often veiled by drifting clouds, and sometimes we don't see her for several nights in a row. If Luna seems spooky, it is not surprising, given the inky darkness into which she rises at this time of the year, and the fact that Samhain (or Halloween) is only two weeks away. This month's full moon looks brighter because the sun's apparent path across the sky (the ecliptic) is lower in late autumn.

This is a wonderful (in the original sense of the word) time for moonhearts, stargazey people and backyard astronomers, for we are entering the fabulous region of the winter stars. Hallelujah, there is more darkness for sky watching, and one doesn't mind staying up all night or rising in the wee hours of the morning because there are wonders to be seen from one horizon to the other.

October is the month of the annual Orionid meteor showers, one of my favorite astronomical happenings in the whole turning year. Throwaway children of Halley's comet, the Orionids are visible all month long, and this year they will peak on October 20-21 when the earth moves directly into the most densely populated region of the comet's ancient particle field. Hallelujah, we are about to have a ringside seat to the greatest cosmic light show of them all, torrents of shooting stars (meteroids) streaming across the eastern sky in the hours before dawn. Who knows, some of the particles rocketing around up there may be kin to my own star stuff. 

As Beau and I shivered in the garden last evening there were no two ways about it - summer has crept away, autumn has settled in, and winter is not far off. Oh, there are splendid sunny days now and then, but nights are cold for the most part, and the wind has icy fingers after dark. Many trees have already lost their leaves, and their bare branches form an austere architectural backdrop for the moon in her journey. A tapestry of stars spangled the night sky, and there it was, a luminous, golden full moon, the last supermoon of this calendar year, and absolutely magnificent.

We also know last night's fabulous moon as the: Acorns Cached Moon, Banksia Moon, Bare Branches Moon, Big Chestnut Moon, Big Wind Moon, Blood Moon, Chrysanthemum Moon, Corn Ripening Moon, Drying Grass Moon, Falling Leaves Moon, Frosty Moon, Hallows Moon, Joins Both Sides Moon, Kantlos Moon, Kindly Moon, Leaf Falling Moon, Leaf Dance Moon, Leaves Change Color Moon, Maple Moon, Michaelmas Daisy Moon, Middle-finger Moon, Migration Moon, Moon When Birds Fly South, Moon of Poverty, Moon When Geese Leave, Moon of Changing Seasons, Moon of Harvesting, Moon When Deer Rut, Moon of Acorn Gathering, Moon When Corn Is Taken In, Moon of Falling Leaves, Moon That Turns the Leaves White, Moon of First Frost, Moon When They Store Food in Caches, Moon of Long Hair, Moon When Quilling and Beading Are Done, Moon When the Water Begins to Freeze on the Edge of Streams, Nut Moon, Pekelanew Moon, Raking Moon, Samhain Moon, Shedding Moon, Small Trees Freeze Moon, Song Moon, Striped Gopher Looks Back Moon, Strong Moon, Ten Colds Moon, Travel in Canoes Moon, Trees Felled by Fire at Butt Moon, Trout Moon, Turkey Moon, Vintage Moon, White Frost on Grass Ground Moon, Wild Turkeys Moon, Wilted Moon, Wine Moon, Winter Coming Moon

Oh, That Harvest Moon

This moon is my favorite in the whole turning year.  It is also the one I can't describe properly or take a good photo of, no matter how extensive my preparations or ardent my intentions. Every year, I wander off to a good vantage point, set up camera, telescope and tripod, check my settings and wait patiently for night to fall. The moon rises, and I stand breathless in the dark, trying to capture her radiance with my lens and grasping a clumsy handful of words to describe the most beautiful moon of the year. Honoring this month's full moon is a personal seasonal rite, and if I had to think up a name of my own for it, that name would be "Hallelujah Moon".

It is something of a cosmic joke, my standing outside in the dark and taking photo after photo but never a good one. Another glorious Harvest Moon has just gone by, and another tottering heap of mediocre images has been captured. The whole  exercise brings to mind the Zen teaching tale in which a monk on his deathbed was asked to describe his life, and he replied blithely, "just one mistake after another..."

In the greater scheme of things, it doesn't matter how my efforts turned out - it was just being there that mattered. I was happy to be around for another harvest moon, and I hope to be around for many more such wonders. Lady Moon climbed into the sky at the appointed hour, and we (Beau and I) were there to witness her ascent. As we packed up our stuff and headed indoors, we couldn't help thinking that such splendor deserved a gesture of some kind, a chorus, a chant or a benediction - something grander, wider and more expressive than our rickety bows and contented sighs.

We also know this moon as the: Acorns Gathered Moon, All Ripe Moon, Aster Moon, Autumn Moon, Barley Moon, Berry Moon, Chrysanthemum Moon, Corn Moon, Corn Maker Moon, Dancing Moon, Deer Paw the Earth Moon, Dog Salmon Return to Earth Moon, Elderberry Moon, Drying Grass Moon, Fruit Moon, Hay Cutting Moon, Her Acorns Moon, Holy Moon, Hulling Corn Moon, Index-finger Moon, Leaf Fall Moon, Leaves Changing Color Moon, Little Chestnut Moon, Mabon Moon, Maize Moon, Mallow Blossom Moon, Moon of Falling Leaves, Moon of First Frost, Moon of Full Harvest, Moon of Much Freshness, Moon When the Leaves Fall, Moon of Plenty, Moon When the Corn Is Taken in, Moon When the Plums Are Scarlet, Moon When Deer Paw the Earth, Moon When Calves Grow Hair, Moon When Everything Ripens and Corn Is Harvested, Moose Moon, Morning Glory Moon, Mulberry Moon, Nut Moon, Papaw Moon, Rice Moon, Rudbeckia Moon, Seed Moon, Shining Leaf Moon, Silky Oak Moon, Singing Moon, Sturgeon Moon, Snow Goose Moon, Wine Moon, Wood Moon, Yellow Leaf Moon. 

That Splendid Harvest Moon

September's moon is my favorite in the whole turning year. It is also (above all others), the one I can't describe or take a good photo of, no matter how extensive my preparations and meticulous my labors. Every year, I potter out to a good vantage point set up camera, telescope and tripod, check everything out and wait for night to fall. The moon rises, and I stand breathless in the darkness trying to capture her with my lens, clinging to a scant handful of woefully  inadequate words to describe the most beautiful moon of the year. Bearing witness to this month's full moon is a personal seasonal rite, and if I had to brew up a name of my own for it, that name would be "Hallelujah Moon".

I once described the matter as something of a cosmic joke, the business of standing outside on September full moon nights and taking photo after photo but never a good one. Well, here we are again, another glorious Harvest Moon has gone by, and another sheaf of mediocre images has been captured. It brings to mind the Zen teaching tale in which an elderly monk on his deathbed was asked to describe his journey through life and replied cheerfully, "just one mistake after another..."

Saturday night's full moon was impressive, but in the greater scheme of things, it doesn't matter how my efforts turned out, and I should remember that - it was just being there that mattered. I was delighted to be around for another glorious harvest moon, and I hope to be around for many more. The moon rose, and we (Beau and I) stood out in the darkness together, watching her and knowing we were right where we should be. As we packed up our stuff to come indoors later, we couldn't help thinking that such magnificence deserved a gesture of some kind, a chorus, a chant or a benediction - something grander and more luminous than our rickety bows and sighs of contentment.

Friday Ramble - The Barley Moon of August

Oh, for a perfect, burnished full moon on an evening in late summer... After many years, the longing remains in all its foolish intensity - a yearning to be enfolded in something grand and gilded and luminous, and way up there among the stars.

The late French conductor Pierre Boulez once said: "Just listen with the vastness of the world in mind; you can't fail to get the message." Whatever happens to my gnarly old self and its molecules (starstuff) this time around, I like to think that a tiny scrap of the world's grace and grandeur and vastness will remain in my consciousness as I billow off into the great beyond like a scrap of linen liberated from the clothesline.

Let there be that and a few scattered images of the moon surrounded by stars and looking down on the earth, lustrous and blithe of countenance. Every night is a jeweled tapestry, and every lunar round is a wonder to the eyes and lens tracing her contours, mapping her mountains and valleys, wide mesas and dry seas, lingering on her glossy light.

Under the August moon, geese move back and forth between rivers and fields. Deer and wild turkeys graze along farm fences, and coyote clans call across the hills in voices hinting at autumn. Moonlight turns trees in the woodland into throngs of interlaced fingers and dancing leaves into flocks of nocturnal butterflies - it touches grasses with silver, turns sleeping fields into rippling dunes and rolling oceans. In its light, farm buildings, fences and windmills are stark shapes silhouetted against the darkness and far-flung stars. This was the last supermoon of 2022, and what a glorious moon it was.

In other years I would be standing outside in the wee hours of the morning to watch the annual Perseid meteor shower. Debris from the Swift-Tuttle comet, the Perseids are the most spectacular meteor shower of the year, named for the event's apparent radiant (the point from which the meteors seem to originate) in the constellation Perseus. The shower is peaking, but it is difficult to see this year because of the moon which will dominate the sky for several nights to come. I may go out for a spot of meteor gazing tonight anyway - I have been doing it for many years. 

There is something mysterious and bewitching about this month's moon, and for all the activity down here on earth, there is something plaintive and rather haunting too. The barley harvest is about to begin in the highlands of eastern Ontario, and "Barley Moon" is the perfect name for the lady shining down on us all this month.

There are many names for August's full moon, but my own favorites are: Ripening Moon, Blackberry Moon, Corn Moon and Women's Moon.

Wordless Wednesday - Moonrise

 Harvest Moon, September 20, 2021

Thursday Poem - An April Night

The moon comes up o'er the deeps of the woods,
And the long, low dingles that hide in the hills,
Where the ancient beeches are moist with buds
Over the pools and the whimpering rills;

And with her the mists, like dryads that creep
From their oaks, or the spirits of pine-hid springs,
Who hold, while the eyes of the world are asleep,
With the wind on the hills their gay revellings.

Down on the marshlands with flicker and glow
Wanders Will-o'-the-Wisp through the night,
Seeking for witch-gold lost long ago
By the glimmer of goblin lantern-light.

The night is a sorceress, dusk-eyed and dear,
Akin to all eerie and elfin things,
Who weaves about us in meadow and mere
The spell of a hundred vanished Springs.

Lucy Maud Montgomery

The Hunter's Moon of October

In October, Lady Moon is often veiled by drifting clouds, and sometimes we don't see her for several nights in a row. If Luna seems spooky, it is not surprising, given the inky darkness into which she rises at this time of the year, and the fact that Samhain (or Halloween) is only a few days away. This month's full moon is no brighter than the other moons in a calendar year, but she always seems brighter because of the position of the ecliptic in the sky in late autumn.

This is a wonderful (in the original sense of the word) time for moonhearts, stargazey people and backyard astronomers, for we are entering the fabulous region of the winter stars. Hallelujah, there is more darkness for sky watching, and one doesn't mind staying up all night or rising in the wee hours of the morning because there are wonders to be seen from one horizon to the other.

October is the month of the annual Orionid meteor showers, one of my favorite astronomical happenings in the whole turning year. Throwaway children of Halley's comet, the Orionids are visible all month long, and this year they will peak on October 21-22 (next Tuesday and Wednesday) when the earth moves directly into the most densely populated region of the comet's ancient particle field. Hallelujah, we are about to have a ringside seat to the greatest cosmic light show of them all, torrents of shooting stars (meteroids) streaming across the eastern sky in the hours before dawn. Who knows, some of the particles rocketing around up there may be kin to my own star stuff. Awesome doings for sure.

For the ancient Celts, the last day of October signified summer's end and the onset of long nights and deep cold.  As Beau and I shivered in the garden last evening there were no two ways about it - summer has crept away, autumn has settled in, and winter is not far off. Oh, there are splendid sunny days now and then, but nights are cold for the most part, and the wind has icy fingers after dark. Many trees have already lost their leaves, and their bare branches form an austere architectural backdrop for the moon in her journey.

Lady Moon is a prominent motif in Halloween folklore, and I'm always on the lookout for new appearances.  Witches on broomsticks, bats, dancing skeletons, jack-o'-lanterns, ghosts, goblins, spectral owls and crooked trees - all make their appearances silhouetted against ghostly moons and deep, velvety darkness. I adore pumpkins, and orange is one of my favorite colors. Getting out the little blue house's Halloween "clobber" is always a happy exercise.

We  also know this moon as the: Acorns Cached Moon, Banksia Moon, Bare Branches Moon, Big Chestnut Moon, Big Wind Moon, Blackberry Moon, Blood Moon, Chrysanthemum Moon, Corn Ripening Moon, Drying Grass Moon, Falling Leaves Moon, Frosty Moon, Hallows Moon, Joins Both Sides Moon, Kantlos Moon, Kindly Moon, Leaf Falling Moon, Leaf Dance Moon, Leaves Change Color Moon, Maple Moon, Michaelmas Daisy Moon, Middle-finger Moon, Migration Moon, Moon When Birds Fly South, Moon of Poverty, Moon When Geese Leave, Moon of Changing Seasons, Moon of Harvesting, Moon When Deer Rut, Moon of Acorn Gathering, Moon When Corn Is Taken In, Moon of Falling Leaves, Moon That Turns the Leaves White, Moon of First Frost, Moon When They Store Food in Caches, Moon of Long Hair, Moon When Quilling and Beading Are Done, Moon When the Water Begins to Freeze on the Edge of Streams, Nut Moon, Pekelanew Moon, Raking Moon, Samhain Moon, Shedding Moon, Small Trees Freeze Moon, Song Moon, Striped Gopher Looks Back Moon, Strong Moon, Ten Colds Moon, Travel in Canoes Moon, Trees Felled by Fire at Butt Moon, Trout Moon, Turkey Moon, Vintage Moon, White Frost on Grass Ground Moon, Wild Turkeys Moon, Wilted Moon, Wine Moon, Winter Coming Moon

This is Thanksgiving Day in Canada, and I wish a very happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian friends!  Perhaps we can call this the "Thanksgiving Moon".

The Harvest Moon of September

September's moon is my favorite in the whole turning year.  It is also (above all others), the one I can't describe properly or take a good photo of, no matter how extensive my preparations and ardent my labors.  Every year, I wander off to a good vantage point, set up camera, telescope and tripod, check my settings and wait patiently for night to fall. The moon rises, and I stand breathless in the dark, trying to capture her radiance with my lens, grasping a clumsy handful of words to describe the most beautiful moon of the year. Paying tribute to this month's full moon is a personal seasonal rite, and if I had to brew up a name of my own for it, that name would be "Hallelujah Moon".

It is something of a cosmic joke, this business of standing outside after dark and taking photo after photo but never a good one. Well, here we are again, another glorious Harvest Moon has just gone by, and another heap of mediocre images has been captured. The whole  exercise brings to mind the Zen teaching tale in which a monk on his deathbed was asked to describe his life, and he replied blithely, "just one mistake after another..."

In the greater scheme of things, it doesn't matter how my efforts turned out - it was just being there that mattered. I was happy to be around for another harvest moon, and I hope to be around for many more such wonders. Lady Moon climbed into the sky at the appointed hour, and we (Beau and I) were there to witness her ascent. As we packed up our stuff and headed indoors, we couldn't help thinking that such splendor deserved a gesture of some kind, a chorus, a chant or a benediction - something grander, wider and more expressive than our rickety bows and contented sighs.

We also know this moon as the: Acorns Gathered Moon, All Ripe Moon, Aster Moon, Autumn Moon, Barley Moon, Berry Moon, Chrysanthemum Moon, Corn Moon, Corn Maker Moon, Dancing Moon, Deer Paw the Earth Moon, Dog Salmon Return to Earth Moon, Elderberry Moon, Drying Grass Moon, Fruit Moon, Hay Cutting Moon, Her Acorns Moon, Holy Moon, Hulling Corn Moon, Index-finger Moon, Leaf Fall Moon, Leaf Yellow Moon, Leaves Changing Color Moon, Little Chestnut Moon, Maize Moon, Mallow Blossom Moon, Moon of Falling Leaves, Moon of First Frost, Moon of Full Harvest, Moon of Much Freshness, Moon When the Leaves Fall, Moon of Plenty, Moon When the Corn Is Taken in, Moon When the Plums Are Scarlet, Moon When Deer Paw the Earth, Moon When Calves Grow Hair, Moon When Everything Ripens and Corn Is Harvested, Moose Moon, Morning Glory Moon, Mulberry Moon, Nut Moon, Papaw Moon, Rice Moon, Rudbeckia Moon, Seed Moon, Shining Leaf Moon, Silky Oak Moon, Singing Moon, Soaproot Dug For Fish Poison Moon, Sturgeon Moon, Wavy or Snow Goose Moon, Wine Moon, Wood Moon, Yellow Leaf Moon.

The Barley Moon of August

Oh, for a perfect, burnished full moon on an evening in late summer... After many years, the longing remains in all its foolish intensity - a yearning to be enfolded in something grand and gilded and luminous.

The late French conductor Pierre Boulez once said: Just listen with the vastness of the world in mind; you can't fail to get the message. Whatever happens to my gnarly old self and its molecules (starstuff) this time around, I like to think that a tiny scrap of the world's grace and grandeur and vastness will remain in my consciousness as I billow off into the great beyond like a scrap of linen liberated from the clothesline.  Let there be that and a few scattered images of the moon surrounded by stars and looking down on the earth, lustrous and blithe of countenance. Every night is a jeweled tapestry, and every lunar round is a wonder to the eyes and lens tracing her contours, mapping her mountains and valleys, wide mesas and dry seas, lingering on her glossy light.

Under the August moon, geese move back and forth between rivers and fields.  Deer and wild turkeys graze along farm fences, and coyote clans call across the hills in voices hinting at autumn. Moonlight turns trees in the woodland into throngs of interlaced fingers and their dancing leaves into flocks of nocturnal butterflies - it touches grasses with silver, transforms sleeping fields into rippling dunes and rolling oceans.  In its light, farm buildings, fences and windmills are stark shapes silhouetted against the darkness and far-flung stars.  There is something mysterious and bewitching about this month's moon, and for all the activity down here on earth, there is something plaintive and rather haunting too.  The barley harvest is about to begin in the highlands of eastern Ontario, and "Barley Moon" is the perfect name for the lady shining down on us all this month.

We also know the August moon as the: Acorns Ripening Moon, Berry Moon, Big Harvest Moon, Big Ripening Moon, Blackberry Moon, Blueberry Moon, Centáwen Moon, Claiming Moon, Coho Salmon Return Moon, Corn Is In Silk Moon, Corn Moon, Crest of the Hill Moon, Cutter Moon, Dahlia Moon, Dispute Moon, Dog Days Moon, Drying up Moon, Eighth Moon, Elembivos Moon, Feather Shedding Moon, Flying Moon, Fruit Moon, Gathering Rice Moon, Geese Shedding Feathers Moon, Gladiolus Moon, Grain Moon, Green Corn Moon, Harvest Moon, Hazel Moon, Joyful Moon, Lammas Moon, Leaves Moon, Lightning Moon, Moon After Lugnasadh, Middle Moon, Moon of First Harvest, Moon of Freshness, Moon of Life at It's Height, Moon When Young Ducks Begin to Fly, Moon When All Things Ripen, Moon When Cherries Are Ripe, Moon When Elk Bellow, Moon When Indian Corn Is Edible, Much Heat Moon, Much Ripeness Moon, Mulberries Moon, Paper Bark Moon, Pear Blossom Moon, Plum Moon, Ripe Berries Moon, Ripe Corn Moon, Rising Moon, Starts to Fly Moon, Still Green Moon, Sturgeon Moon, Tall Grass Moon, Thumb Moon, Vegetation Moon, Wode Moon, Wheat Cut Moon, Wild Rice Moon, Women's Moon, Wood Cutter’s Moon or Wort Moon.

My own favorite names for this month's moon are Ripening Moon, Blackberry Moon, Corn Moon and Women's Moon.

The Hunger Moon of February

Usually the second moon of the calendar year, February's full lunar round is an icy one, framed by the vague shapes of snowy evergreens and attended by faint faraway stars. Capturing this moon with one's lens and a slender scrip of words is an uncomfortable business, but we wrap up warmly and go outside with tripod and camera anyway. It is our way of "saying yes to the world", to the innate wildness of life in the Great Round of time, to grandeur in the starry, starry night over our heads.

This month's lunar cycle has to be about owls.  In February, the Great Horned Owl (Bubo virginianus), claims a nest somewhere in the woods with its lifelong mate and settles down to the arduous business of raising another unruly brood. The great "hornies" are among my favorite birds, and it's enchanting to hear a couple calling companionably to each other across the snowy woods in winter.  Northern residents to the core, the great owls thrive in cold climates, and the further one travels toward the Arctic, the bigger they grow. The Saw-whet Owl or sugar bird (Aegolius acadicus) is not far behind in its own courtship rituals, and neither are the other owls of the Lanark highlands. There is love and fertility in the air, among northern owls anyway. The rest of us are just trying to stay warm.

Life can be stressful for those who lack feathers and dine not on mice and voles. The Wolf Moon made its appearance in January, but wolves and coyotes howl plaintively at the gates in February, and hunger is a beast well known in wild and snowbound northern places.  If we can just manage to hang on for a few weeks longer, there are better times ahead.  March promises slightly milder temperatures, relief and sweetness; the splendid sylvan alchemy of the maple syrup season will be in full swing when the next full moon makes its appearance.

We also know this moon as the: Ash Moon, Big Winter Moon, Bone Moon, Bony Moon, Budding Moon, Chestnuts Moon, Cold Winds Moon, Coyotes Frighten Moon, Crow Moon, Dark Red Calves Moon, Death Moon, Eagle Moon, Fish Running Moon, Frost Sparkling in the Sun Moon, Gray Moon, Horning Moon, Ice in River Is Gone Moon, Ice Moon, Index Finger Moon, Little Bud Moon, Long Dry Moon, Makes Branches Fall in Pieces Moon, Mimosa Moon, Moon of Ice, Moon of Purification and Renewal, Moon of Rabbit Conception, Moon of the Cedar Dust Wind, Moon of the Raccoon, Moon of the Frog, Moon, When Geese Come Home, Moon When Bear Cubs are Born, Moon When Spruce Tips Fall, Moon When Trees Pop, Moon When Trees Are Bare and Vegetation Is Scarce, Narcissus Moon, No Snow in Trails Moon, Owl Moon, Peach Blossom Moon, Pink Moon, Plum Blossom Moon, Primrose Moon, Quickening Moon, Raccoon Moon, Rain and Dancing Moon , Red and Cleansing Moon, Second Moon, Snow Crust Moon, Snow Moon, Solmonath (Sun Moon), Squint Rock Moon, Staying Home Moon, Storing Moon, Storm Moon, Sucker Fish Moon, Sucker Moon, Trapper’s Moon, Treacherous Moon, Violet Moon, Wexes Moon, Wild Moon, Wind Moon, Wind Tossed Moon, Winter Moon

As far as February's moon names go, I am fond of Quickening Moon, Wild Moon and Owl Moon, but this will always be Penny's Moon. I still miss her.

The Buck Moon of July

July's full moon is the second of the four "gathering" moons that grace the interval between June and September. The Summer Solstice has passed and daylight hours north of the equator are already waning.  It is still summer by any definition we can come up with, and it's a festive time - skies (hopefully) vividly blue and flooded with sunshine by day, deep violet and star spangled by night.

Images captured on full moon nights sometimes resemble paintings when they are uploaded into the computer, and no matter how often that happens, it always comes as a surprise.  There is something about the velvety dome of a fine summer night that lends itself to lofty thoughts of journeying and adventures, to broad and sweeping brush strokes, to sky sailing galleons, airborne dragon boats and hot air balloons.  Being out under a summer moon conveys a sense of wonder, grandeur and connection with the universe that is hard to describe in words - as the late Carl Sagan wrote so eloquently:

"The surface of the Earth is the shore of the cosmic ocean. On this shore, we've learned most of what we know. Recently, we've waded a little way out, maybe ankle-deep, and the water seems inviting. Some part of our being knows this is where we came from. We long to return, and we can, because the cosmos is also within us. We're made of star stuff. We are a way for the cosmos to know itself."

Not long ago, I scribbled a note to myself, a sticky mauve reminder to remember Carl Sagan's words and the star stuff within.  They are comforting on days when health concerns seize the upper hand and leave me feeling somewhat fragile, crotchety and despondent.  The other uplifting thing to do (of course) is to mount a macro lens on the camera, grab notebook and pencil and go out to the woods. Cassie and Spencer are still with us in spirit, but now it is Beau who is rambling along with us and learning to love the Two Hundred Acre Wood.

We also know this magical moon as the: Blackberry Moon, Blessing Moon, Blueberry Moon, Claim Song Moon, Corn Moon, Crane Moon, Daisy Moon, Fallow Moon, Feather Moulting Moon, Flying Moon, Grass Cutter Moon, Ground Burning Moon, Hay Moon, Heat Moon, Horse Moon, Humpback Salmon Return to Earth Moon, Hungry Ghost Moon, Index Finger Moon, Larkspur Moon, Lightning Moon, Little Harvest Moon, Little Moon of Deer Horns Dropping off, Little Ripening Moon, Loaf Moon, Lotus Flower Moon, Meadow Moon, Manzanita Ripens Moon, Mead Moon, Midsummer Moon, Middle Moon, Middle of Summer Moon, Moon Before Lammas, Moon of Claiming, Moon of the Young Corn, Moon of Fledgling Hawk, Moon of Much Ripening, Moon of the Home Dance, Moon of the Middle Summer, Moon of Ripeness, Moon When Cherries Are Ripe, Moon When the Buffalo Bellow, Moon When People Move Camp Together, Moon When Limbs of Are Trees Broken by Fruit, Moon When Squash Are Ripe and Indian Beans Begin to Be Edible, Moon When Ducks Begin to Malt, Mountain Clover Moon, Peaches Moon, Raspberry Moon, Red Berries Moon, Red looming Lilies Moon, Return from Harvest Moon, Ripe Corn Moon, Ripening Moon, Rose Moon, Salmon Go up the Rivers in a Group Moon, Seventh Moon, Smokey Moon, Strong Sun Moon, Summer Moon, Sun House Moon, Warming Sun Moon, Water Lily Moon, Wattle Moon, Wort Moon.

As names go, I am fond of Blessing Moon, Blackberry Moon and Meadow Moon, but this year, Heat Moon says it best.

March's Moon of Awakening

By rights, March's full moon should rise when  there is no snow, and one doesn't have to wear an Arctic parka to look at it. We (Beau and I) shivered as we waited for Lady Moon to put in an appearance last night, but there She was a little after eight, lustrous and pearly and a wistful harbinger of the greening season that has yet to put in even a brief appearance. 

This month's moon is often called the Moon of Awakening by northern indigenous cultures because it usually rises when the maple syrup season is in full swing, when the woods are filled with owl songs, migratory birds are returning and trees are budding out. This year there is still a fair bit of snow about, and temperatures are in the minuses after dark. It will be some time until the weather is mild enough for a proper maple syrup run, until loons return and herons haunt the shoreline of my favorite lake. Not a goose, a sandhill crane or a trumpeter swan has returned. Do I label this post as "winter" or "springtime"? It has to be winter.

As cold it was last evening, springtime is making its way northward, and we were content with things just as they were. In my eldering years, I am (perhaps) learning a little patience and can wait for warmer nights and other full moons.  Every night and every moon is a gift.

We also know this moon as the: Alder Moon, Big Famine Moon, Big Winds Moon, Blossoming Out Moon, Bud Moon, Buffalo Dropping Their Calves Moon, Catching Fish Moon, Chaste Moon, Cherry Blossom Moon, Cold’s End Moon, Crow Moon, Crust Moon, Daffodil Moon, Death Moon, Deer Moon, Eagle Moon, Goose Moon, Green Moon, Growth Begins Moon, Hard Crust on the Snow Moon, Hertha's Moon, Hyacinth Moon, Lenten Moon, Little Frog Moon, Little Sand Storm Moon, Little Spring Moon, Lizard Moon, Long Days Moon, Maple Sweetness Moon, Middle Finger Moon, Moon of Earth Awakening, Moon of Opening Hands, Moon of the Crane, Moon of the Whispering Wind, Moon of Winds, Moon When Buffalo Cows Drop Their Calves, Moon When Eyes Are Sore from Bright Snow, Moon When the Leaves Break Forth, Moon When the Geese Return, Moose Hunter Moon, Much Lateness Moon, Ogroni Moon, Plow Moon, Rebirth Moon, Sap Moon, Seed Moon, Sleepy Moon, Snow Blind Moon, Snow Crust Moon, Snowshoe Breaking Moon, Storm Moon, Strawberry Moon, Sucker Fishing Moon, Sugar Making Moon, Trail Sitting Moon, Tree Peony Moon, Violet Moon, Water Stands in the Ponds Moon, Wind Strong Moon, Windy Moon, Worm Moon.

I am rather fond of Moon of Earth Awakening, Maple Sweetness Moon and Rebirth Moon, but I always think of this as Melanie's Moon in honor of a friend who passed beyond the fields we know a few years ago in March.

The Wolf Moon of January

Here we are on the first day of a new calendar year, and the first full moon of the year too. Not long ago, we leaned against the fence and photographed waves of departing geese against a rising autumn moon, and here we were again recently. The great birds were long gone of course, and their parting songs were only a faint echo on the wind.

January's moon is the coldest of the calendar year. We stoke the embers in our wood stoves and huddle by the hearth on long nights, brew endless pots of tea and stir cauldrons of soup, count sticks of firewood and kindling and hope another trip out to the woodshed is not needed, at least not for a while. We wrap ourselves up as best we can and take toboggans of nosh into the forest for the birds and the deer. On our wild jaunts, we look for the first signs that daylight hours are stretching out again, measure the incline, intensity and sharpness of the deep blue shadows falling across our trail as we crunch along. The north wind holds dominion over the Lanark highlands in winter, and it cuts like a knife.

During the last winter Olympics, an ad supporting the Canadian team proclaimed: "We are Winter” (“Nous sommes l'hiver”), and truer words were never spoken. Winter is something we do up here, and we do it very, very well.

On clear winter nights, timber wolves on our hill in Lanark raise their voices in song, and coyote clans on the other side of the Two Hundred Wood sing a magnificent harmony, the two choruses performing a descant that rises and falls in waves across the inky snow and travels for miles - it's almost Gregorian, a Kyrie eleison so gorgeous it gives us goosebumps and leaves us breathless every single time we hear it.

In only three or four weeks, great horned owls will be nesting in our woods again, and a few weeks after that, the maple syrup season will (hopefully) be starting in the highlands. Of such small and hopeful notions, our winter days are made.

We also know this January moon as the: After Yule Moon, Big Cold Moon, Buckeyes Ripe Moon, Carnation Moon, Center Moon, Ceremonial Initiate Moon, Cold Moon, Cooking Moon, Turning Moon, Earth Renewal Moon, First Moon, Frost in the Tepee Moon, Frozen Ground Moon, Great Moon, Great Spirit Moon, Greetings Maker Moon, Her Cold Moon, Hibiscus Moon, Holiday Moon, Ice Moon, Lakes Frozen Moon, Little Winter Moon, Long Moon, Man Moon, Midwinter Moon, Moon After Yule, Moon of the Bear, Moon of the Child, Moon of Darkness, Moon of Flying Ants, Moon of Life at It's Height, Moon of Strong Cold, Moon of Whirling Snow, Moon When Animals Lose Their Fat, Moon When Limbs of Trees Are Broken by Snow, Moon When Snow Drifts into Tipis, Moon When the Snow Blows like Spirits in the Wind, Moon When the Sun Has Traveled South, Moon When the Old Fellow Spreads the Brush , Moon When Wolves Run Together, Ninene Moon, No Snow in Trails Moon, Old Moon, Pine Moon, Plum Blossom Moon, Quiet Moon, Rivros Moon, Rowan Moon, Severe Moon, Snow Moon, Snow Thaws Moon, Snowdrop Moon, Snowy Path Moon, Strong Cold Moon, Sun Has Not Strength to Thaw Moon, Thumb Moon, Trail Squint Moon, Two Trails Moon, Weight Loss Moon, Whirling Wind Moon, White Waking Moon, Winter Moon, Winter's Younger Brother Moon

Always an admirer of wolves, I like the name "Wolf Moon", but I am also fond of "Great Spirit Moon" and "Earth Renewal Moon".

The Elder Moon of December

Sunday night's full moon was a supermoon and the last full moon of this calendar year, although it seems only yesterday that Spencer and I were out in the garden shivering and watching the first full moon of the year rise over sleeping trees. Now it is Beau who accompanies me on my lunar adventures, and he enjoys them immensely. I still miss Spencer, and I always will, but his baby brother is a bundle of sweetness, and watching the little guy bloom is a joy.

Whatever the season, the trees in our garden and the evergreens on our hill in the eastern Ontario highlands frame the rising moon splendidly: wearing new leaves in springtime, lush and green in summer, attired in bronze and red and russet for autumn, bare of branch or robed in snow in winter.

The thirteen moons of a calendar year wear different names, faces and personalities according to one's culture, where one happens to live in the world and what the seasonal activities of one's native place are. There are common threads or themes to lunar lore, and the moon's names provide food for thought about the nature of community, hearth and connection. They speak eloquently of timeless natural rhythms and the calendar of the seasons: springtime and green things springing from the earth, planting and weeding, hunting, harvesting and gathering in, rest and regeneration.

December's moon falls at the darkest time of year in the north, and for me it will always be the Elder Moon or the Long Nights Moon. The elder tree is December's symbol in the Celtic tree calendar, and this month's moon falls during the darkest time of the year, so both names are apt. This is also my birthday month, and I have particular fondness for the great lunar pearl shining over us on December nights.

It makes me happy to think that when January's full moon appears, daylight hours will be lengthening, and we will be on our way to Spring and warmth. Having said that, we will be trudging through bitter cold, deep snow and high winds, and we will have a long, long way to go. That is quite all right. The vaults of heaven will be full of stars at night, and there will be confetti skies at sunrise. Hopefully, the Northern Lights will make an appearance now and then. Such celestial doings make journeying through the Great Round a joyous undertaking, and in all the frenetic "toing and froing" of the holiday season, that is a fine thought to cling to.

We also know this moon as the: Ashes Fire Moon, Bear Moon, Beginning of the Winter Moon, Big Bear's Moon, Big Winter Moon, Birch Moon, Center Moon's Younger Brother, Cold Moon, Cold Time Moon, Bitter Moon, Deer Shed Their Horns Moon, Moon, Eccentric Moon, Evergreen Moon, Frozen over Moon, Heavy Snow Moon, Holy Moon, Hellebore Moon, Her Winter Houses Moon, Hunting Moon, Ice Lasts All Day Moon, Ice Moon, Little Finger Moon, Little Spirits Moon, Long Nights Moon, Long Snows Moon, Midwinter Moon, Moon of Cold, Moon of Long Nights, Moon of Much Cold, Moon of Popping Trees, Moon of Putting Your Paddle Away, Moon of Respect, Moon When Deer Shed Their Horns, Moon When Little Black Bears Are Born, Moon When the Young Fellow Spreads the Brush, Moon When Wolves Run Together, Moon When the Sun Has Traveled South to His Home to Rest Before He Starts Back on His Journey North, Narcissus Moon, Night Moon, Oak Moon, Paulownia Moon, Peach Moon, Poinsettia Moon, Popping Trees Moon, Poppy Moon, Real Goose Moon, Sap Moon, Sjelcasen Moon, Solstice Moon, Snow Moon, Star Frost Moon, Turning Moon, Twelfth Moon, Under Burn Moon, White Orchid Tree Moon, Winter Maker Moon, Winter Moon, World Darkness Moon, Yule Moon.

Among other monikers for this month's full moon, I am also fond of "Midwinter Moon" and "Little Spirits Moon".

The Flower Moon of May

At long last, northern trees are leafing out, and they are wonderfully silhouetted against the fine inky darkness of springtime.  You can't see leaves and catkins in this photo, but trust me, they are there.

It would have been grand to see the full moon rise last evening, then watch a meteor shower a few hours later, but the annual Eta Aquarid meteor shower peaked during the first week of May (May 5-6), and that was not going to happen. At the height of this year's meteor shower, the waxing moon was bright and a few days past first quarter.  It set just before 4 am, leaving only an hour or so of dark sky for early morning meteor watching.

We can thank Halley's Comet for spring and autumn's light shows.  Every year, Earth passes through the comet's orbit for the first time in late April and early May, and debris from the comet lights up the sky as meteor showers before dawn.  Spring's meteor shower is named after Eta Aquarii, a faint star in the constellation Aquarius from which the meteors appear to originate.  Don't be fooled by appearances though.  Eta Aquarii is about 170 light years away from us while May's light show takes place just 60 miles (100 kilometers) above Earth’s surface.  Autumn's Orionid meteor shower occurs as our planet passes through Halley's orbit for the second time in October, and that makes the Orionids kin to this month's sparkling performance.  Always an ardent observer of meteor showers, I have probably spent years of my life watching them race across the night, but I have yet to capture a good photo of Halley's castaway children.

We also know May's moon as the: Alewife Moon, Blossom Moon, Bottlebrush Moon, Bright Moon, Budding Moon, Corn Planting Moon, Death Moon, Dragon Moon, Dyad Moon, Fawns Moon, Field Maker Moon, Fifth Moon, Fish Moon, Flowering Moon, Frog Moon, Frogs Return Moon, Geese Go North Moon, Geese Moon, Grass Moon, Green Leaf Moon, Hare Moon, Hoeing Corn Moon, Idle Moon, Iris Moon, Joy Moon, Leaf Dancing Moon, Leaves Appear Moon, Leaves Tender Moon, Lily of the Valley Moon, Little Corn Moon, Little Finger Moon, Magnolia Moon, Merry Moon, Milk Moon, Moon of Big Leaf, Moon of the Strawberry, Moon of the Camas Harvest, Moon of Waiting, Moon To Plant, Moon When Corn is Planted, Moon When Ponies Shed Their Fur, Moon When the Buffalo Plant is in Flower, Moon When the Leaves Are Green, Moon When the Little Flowers Die, Moon When the Horses Get Fat, Moon When Women Weed Corn, Mulberry Moon, Mulberry Ripening Moon, New Waters Moon, Old Woman Moon, Panther Moon, Penawen Moon, Peony Moon, Planting Moon, Putting Seeds in the Hole Moon, Seeds Ripen Moon, Sprout Kale Moon, Staying Home Moon, Storing Moon, Strawberry Moon, Suckers Dried Moon Summer Moon, Thrice Milk Moon, Wind Tossed Moon, Winnemon Moon.

As names go, I am fond of "Leaf Dancing Moon" and "Budding Moon".

The Seed Moon of April

When April's full moon comes calling and lights up the night, there is (or ought to be) tiny new grasses underfoot, the astringent scent of life-giving sap flowing through twigs and branches as the earth undertakes her reckless prodigal flaring into spring.  This northern part of the world awakens slowly, and in April we northerners tend to go a little mad, cavorting like ecstatic fools on the cusp between winter and spring as we wait for temperatures to rise and the landscape to come to life.  In her resemblance to a great cosmic egg or seed, this month's full moon expresses the greening to come and the new life quickening in the earth far below her light.

A puckish and unpredictable thing is life in the great round and "the matter of moons". We go faithfully out with tripod and camera month after month, always hoping to see the moon on her special night but never really sure - especially in springtime when the lady is concealed by rain clouds for days at a time.  It rained here last evening and there was no moon to be seen, but Spencer and I were fortunate the night before.  Luna rose above the bare trees in inky, cloudless skies, and we were there to watch her ascend.

Around this time every year, I find myself all wrapped up in vague longings that evade description, wandering for hours in the woods and reaching for something that can't be articulated in words or captured on a memory card. Some of the restlessness can be attributed to my being here all winter while family members, neighbors and friends rambled away to warmer climes, but the simple truth is that I too long to sprout leaves and burst into shaggy riotous bloom. The moon in her fullness has a way of quieting my nebulous springtime longings, and sometimes old stones lull them too, as do little garden jungles of rain dappled leaves and flocks of Canada geese passing overhead on their way to the river. There's a gentle kind of wabi sabi melancholy in such yearnings that becomes stronger and more compelling with every passing year. This moon brought new health issues to cope with, but I am getting to be an old hand with this cancer "stuff".

We also know this restless yearning moon as the: Ashes Moon, Big Spring Moon, Broken Snowshoe Moon, Budding Trees Moon, Bullhead Moon, Cherry Blossom Moon, Daisy Moon, Fish Moon, Flower Moon, Fourth Moon, Frog Moon, Glittering Snow on Lake Moon, Grass Moon, Gray Goose Moon, Great Sand Storm Moon, Green Grass Moon, Growing Moon, Half Spring Moon, Hare Moon, Ice Breaking in the River Moon, Leaf Split Moon, Loon Moon, Maple Sap Moon, Moon of Greening Grass, Moon of the Big Leaves, Moon of the Red Grass Appearing, Moon of Windbreak, Moon When Geese Return in Scattered Formation, Moon When Nothing Happens, Moon When the Geese Lay Eggs, Moon When They Set Indian Corn, Moon, Pink Moon, Planter's Moon, Planting Corn Moon, Planting Moon, Poinciana Moon, Red Grass Appearing Moon, Ring Finger Moon, Snowdrop Moon, Snowshoe Breaking Moon, Spring Moon, Sprouting Grass Moon, Strawberry Moon, Strong Moon, Sugar Moon.

The Midsummer Moon of June

What else can one call a full moon that falls on the eve of the summer solstice, but the "Midsummer Moon"? This year, no other name will do.

Summer reigns in the northern hemisphere, and we focus our thoughts on Helios ascendant, not the quieter (but no less radiant) Lady Moon lighting our nights in a tapestry of twinkling stars. When June's full moon makes its appearance, we are tending our gardens and thinking ahead to autumnal rhythms of harvesting, gathering and storing, anything at all except winter, cold and long nights.

In the eastern Ontario highlands, corn and oats reach for the sky and fields of barley are "pinking up" nicely.  The first grain harvest of the year is underway, and farm fields are freckled with bales of timothy (blue grass), alfalfa and sweet clover. Is there anything on the planet to compare with the fragrance of freshly cut clover?

Deer graze in the deep shadows along fence lines at dusk, and wild turkeys forage in high oak groves, gabbling their pleasure at the dainties on offer. Our cups are brimming over, but daylight will begin to wane this week, and cooler times will be on their way - we accept their coming of course, but for the moment, our musings are all wrapped up in warmth, sunlight flickering through old trees and birdsong in the overstory.

We also know this moon as the: Bass Moon, Big Mouth Moon, Big Summer Moon, Blackberry Moon, Bulbs Mature Moon, Columbine Moon, Corn Tassels Appear Moon, Dancing Moon, Duckling Moon, Dyan Moon, Egg Hatching Moon, Egg Laying Moon, Egg Moon, Eucalyptus Moon, Fatness Moon, Fish Spoils Easily Moon, Fishing Moon, Flowering Cherry Moon, Full Leaf Moon, Gardening Moon, Green Corn Moon, Hoeing Moon, Honey Moon, Hot Moon, Lady Slipper Moon, Leaf Dark Moon, Litha Moon, Lotus Moon, Lovers' Moon, Mead Moon, Middle of Summer Moon, Midsummer Brightness Moon, Midsummer Moon, Moon of Horses, Moon of Little Fawns, Moon of Making Fat, Moon of Planting, Moon of the Turtle, Moon When Green Grass Is Up, Moon When June Berries Are Ripe, Moon When the Buffalo Bulls Hunt the Cows, Moon When the Hot Weather Begins, Moon When the Leaves Are Dark Green, Moon When the Leaves Come out, Moon When They Hill Indian Corn, Oak Moon, Peony Moon, Planting Moon, Pomegranate Moon, Raspberry Moon, Ripening Moon, Ripening Time Moon, Sixth Moon, Sockeye Moon, Solstice Moon, Strawberry Moon, Strong Sun Moon, Summer Moon, Sun High Moon, Thumb Moon, Turning Moon, Watermelon Moon, Windy Moon.

Happy Litha, happy Midsummer.  May the manifold blessings of light be yours.