Zeia, our oldest daughter, 4 years old, just rushed into the office here saying, "Daddy is it a currant? It's a currant, right?" "Is what a currant," I say, and she replies, "The moon." She's looking very proud and pleased. "It's a crescent tonight," I say. "Oh yeah, a crescent," and she's off to share the news with her younger sister. On my nightly chore to bring Mapache, one of our two yippy (or talkative?) farm dogs to the chicken pasture, I watch the phases of the moon and the settling light to the west. The seasons, the phases of the moon, resound with me. I love to share observations of them with my daughters; think it's just as important as any news humanity has made up that day. And of course, Zeia makes the critical links and shares them back with me. Tonight's link is the currant-moon, the tart nutrition the moon gives us when we take the moment to soak it in, to recognize the vastness we are such a small part of.
It was quite a day for beautiful light. After a 1/2 inch of rain fell in about fifteen minutes over the farm, the sun blazed through the clouds, and the crew rushed back out from under cover into the rain, to see an enormous rainbow. It stretched across the farm and it ended the day perfectly, making us all sigh out the heat, humidity and itchy arms of hours of harvest.
Posted by George @ 01:33 PM EST