My recent Mercury return, and the Moon reaching that spot in days, plus some completely unexpected events prompting some contemplation, brings me to the need to step back for a bit from screens of all kinds. I will not post here or be available from 29 August through 10 September 2022, and no one will be monitoring the press, so there will be no book sales, either. But before I go, let me tell you a little story.
This summer the forest directly behind our house was logged. It was a relentless assault, day after day, enormous machines, men with chainsaws, huge claws grabbing entire trees and pulling them from the earth, and when they were finally done, the sheltering woods behind our land were gone, the land scarred, stumps and debris everywhere. Some trees directly behind our next-door neighbors house were left, a beautiful stand of cedars designated as sacred by the tribe that now owns the land, so there is that, a small bright spot in a decimated landscape. Summer was full of displaced and disturbed birds, squirrels, deer, raccoons, even bugs, and presumably bears, though we haven’t seen any of those lately, the last siting during a plus-100 degree day last year. I was sad, seeing individual trees taken that I’ve come to know and love, distinct from the thicket of forest, particularly a small fir that had the look of the quintessential Christmas tree, and a tall pine that had a dogwood wound through its branches; I looked forward to that blooming, a line of white flowers laced into the pine boughs.
Now it’s open, and we get first morning sun, which is new–all the plants in the back yard are still adjusting! And something else: they finished logging right before the August Full Moon. All day I had been mourning the trees, and then night came and the Moon rose–and it was stunning, big and illuminated, and I realized we never had that before. It had been difficult to see the Moon here except when it was very high in the sky, and even then it tends toward the southern exposure, which for us is blocked by trees still. But now, in place of the forest, we have this small gift, the chance to watch Luna as soon as it comes up over the horizon. It just reminded me that even when something that seems terrible happens, and it inevitably brings change, we might find that the ‘new reality’ offers some wonderful things the ‘old reality’ didn’t.
Have a lovely end of summer, and I’ll be back soon, with a little something on the Mercury retrograde in Libra!
That’s a beautiful story, Julie. Thank you for sharing.
And I’m sorry about your loss, even though you did find a silver lining.
A couple of years ago condo board cut down the linden tree branches that were covering our windows – I found that to be very traumatic, that’s despite knowing that in time the branches would be back. Spooky that yesterday I thought “if they take down the tree” I’ll move out of here same day. Something in the air…
Sorry made it all about myself. Thank you again.
Thank you, H. So good to hear from you!
That’s the whole point, I think: I’m hoping others find something resonant within themselves, triggered by my experience–so yes, it should be about you! 🙂
Kelly Knox said:
Take good care! Sending a big hug to you!
Thank you, Kelly!
Eleusis D said:
We have to put that sensibility on our list of Superpowers: to send the Tree Voice all the way up the power line to whoever makes these peculiar decisions. It isn’t enough to be Melampus-like in your cognition. It has to be conveyed. (The longer I live, the more convoluted my Wishlist.). Anyway, happy to hear the moonlight is playing its sonata.
Thank you, Eleusis D. I know what you mean about convoluted wish lists 🙂
I so relate to how traumatic this must have been for you. We had a similar situation one year ago. We knew it was coming so we sold our house as it was going to completely ruin our privacy and displace birds and wildlife. A new development was going in and the thought of noisy neighbours was more than we could bear. My heart aches for the neighbours who did not leave. So glad you have embraced a new outlook. May you enjoy the many moon rises to come.
Thank you, Deb! It was mostly astonishing–and the kind of thing that goes on other places all the time. I think it might be good to remind myself that things are not peaceful for everyone all the time–I’m really lucky to live where the upset was momentary, not perpetual.