An Old Refrain – Day 737

Waxing New Moon – Photo: L. Weikel

An Old Refrain

Whoosh, what a blast of chilliness blew into our area last night! While I haven’t seen or felt any yet myself, a coating of flurries was due to arrive sometime this evening. And in spite of an urge on both Karl’s and my part urging us to forego bundling up and venturing out, we pushed through. We did it, and it was the highlight of our evening. Hence, I’m launching into an old refrain: when you’re feeling glum or defeated or overwhelmed with the state of the world, take a walk.

Yes, the air was crisp. Tonight was the first time this season we had to bundle up and break out our neck gators. Aaaah – made of Turtle Fur, I must admit, I adore how soft and warm they are. They make all the difference when contemplating braving the elements. Keeping your neck warm is essential.

The Real Good Stuff

But enough of my late fall dressing tips. What was really important for us over the past two nights of walking was the gloriousness of the night sky. First, the sliver of a moon last night, which became noticeably larger and brighter crescent in the passage of just one evening.

As you can see, I managed a lovely shot of that tiniest of new moons last night – dangling enticingly in the burnt orange sky.

While tonight, although she was dramatically brighter and a noticeably more pronounced waxing crescent, I couldn’t for the life of me get a good shot of her. I did try; and I could share them with you. But nah. They didn’t do her justice.

Starry Cloudy Night

So I turned my attention away from the setting moon and onto the clouds parting directly above, revealing a thick blanket of glitterati.

I’ll confess: Karl and I had both been in a bit of a foul mood as we cajoled each other into taking our evening constitutional. It’s helpful, as always, when Spartacus gets wind that we’re “going to take a walk-y.” His enthusiasm is sometimes the only thing that drags or guilts us into setting out – especially when it starts getting cold out.

But we did tonight. Thank goodness.

The spiraling crisis of the pandemic as it starts to devastate the Midwest and Southwest, as it starts to raise its ugly head again here on the East coast, is sobering. If we’re paying attention, we can see the irrefutable proof that gathering with anyone beyond our own household for Thanksgiving or the Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanza holidays (not to mention New Years) could result in rampant community spread, hospitalization, and potential death.

We walked. We reveled in the recollection and appreciation of just how precious our lives are in this moment. Gazing upon the growing young moon and boundless stars has that effect on most of us. But it’s easy to forget. It’s easy to talk ourselves into staying home, hunkering down, and ducking for cover.

But I promise you. There’s still plenty of time to cuddle and cocoon upon your return. But there’s no substitute for a dip into the vastness of Mother Nature to remind us that life is fleeting. It’s healthy to expand our horizons and remember just how precious these moments are.

(T-374)