Wednesday, 27 July 2011


I have Annie to thank for these words.... enjoy!!

10th july 2011, 23:46

Does a wolf recall the date of it's birth? Is there memory, or perhaps a scent it once new from being within a mother, that it hunts infinitely? The Moon recalls. The in tune with the waxing and waning of it's own come and go, keeps track of all it surveys, having shone so often on birth and death.There is a record, etched with a fossilized stylus in craters and stones, and the record is grand.

The memory of the Moon is long, and kind, forgiving, and complicit in the earth's forgetting the pain of birth, so that yearly, it yearns again for Spring. And so the Moon holds our unbalanced history...a rose colored collection of our beauty, the moments we got it right, the days we gave in equal measure to our gain, and our effort...the intent of our effort especially cradled with a tender glow.

 11th july, 00:02
The rest, the sometimes painful, scared, humbled rest, is cast like fast balls within strike zone of the sun and returned via "SMACK" on the sweet spot. The cover flies back to incineration while the core sails across the sky. And there, caught readily in the glove of the Moon, is our essence...the scent we once knew from being within a mother. Safe. Warm. Nurtured. Loved.

  14th july,22:08
It is no wonder a wolf howls at the Moon! The Moon is kind, and it's memory is very long.

Annie writes at Wine & Words,
so do go and visit...especially this post ...i'm not the only one!


Rose said...

Very beautiful! More memory synchronicity....

Wine and Words said...

Oh that was fun! A collaboration!!! Thank you so much. I so enjoy your moon photos. I don't have telephoto enough to ever capture the moon looking like anything other than a star! I am honored you thought to inlcude me in this post. THANKS :)


taranova said...

Glad you liked annie !!
hee hee Rose... more synchronicities?!

LauraX said...

exquisite...thank you!

Ed Pilolla said...

i love this, especially with the lunar images and the wolf, too. lots to love. the scent we once knew was grand.