I See the Moon

I see the moon, the moon sees me,
down through the leaves of an old oak tree.
Please let the light that shines on me,
shine on the one I love.

One of my favorite bedtime songs growing up, and one I sang to my daughters when they were little. After we moved to California, however, I had to change the words to "down through the leaves of a tall palm tree," as there were very few oak trees in California, at least where we lived, which was less than half a mile from the ocean, and right across the street from an inlet of water with plenty of palm trees on our street, and our property. The song returns to me on occasion, and did tonight.

As I drove home from One Chapel College graduation in Austin, I saw the incredible amber sliver of a moon in the western sky. Closer to the hill country where I live, the lack of bright lights of the city made it appear that I was moving closer to the moon, and I was watching for a place to pull over on a hill top and take a photo.

I reached the perfect spot, the pinnacle of the first valley past Bee Cave, and I slid over to the side of the road and put on my flashers. Although I had been watching the moon as I drove along, I did notice that occasional smatterings of clouds would pass over the crescent. I put the car into park, and looked and I looked, no moon. Could it be that it was blocked somehow by a tree I couldn't see in the dark? I inched forward, hoping that it was just the light of a passing car that made the thin slice invisible. "No ..." I thought. I love the moon, and to take pictures of it, day and night.

I slunk down in my seat, disappointed, but still hopeful. Waiting, waiting ... no moon. I put the car back into Drive and slowly descended the hill, with my eyes on the sky but barely watching the road, and certainly not up to par on the speed limit. The entire way home, and even as I turned right onto Pace Bend Road, I watched my rear view a few times to make sure I didn't miss it, but the clouds had covered it up.

I see the moon, I don't see the moon.
But somebody does.
Someone can see the beauty of tiny piece of the lovely orbiting sphere that is the moon, it's awesome amber image that sees the person admiring it, through a tree, or not. :-)
It gave me peace to think that someone, somewhere else, far away from Hurricane Harvey, could see the moon.

Sit Down and Write

Was it early onset Alzheimer's or ADD that was preventing the writer from sitting down to write once or twice a day? The lovely words, the brilliant images, the fluid descriptions came to her before she slept at night, as she slowly woke up in the morning, and in snipets throughout the day, as she viewed an interesting outfit a coffee drinker was wearing, as she walked the dog or watched an incredible sun set in the sky with billowing clouds and far reaching rays of sunlight?

The distractions were many, from the phone calls, texts, blog posts, email and Facebook notifications from her many siblings, coworkers and friends. Dirty laundry was always present, and the messy family required picking up after and a kitchen to clean. Regarding the somewhat healthy food they consumed, she made the list, did the shopping, the grocery unloading and cooking, and of course the table setting, serving and clean up afterwards. The dog and cats needed attention, from feeding, litter box cleaning and dog walking, to picking up food from the feed store, vet visits and vacuuming and dusting pet hair. Reading, eating, playing solitaire and drinking alcohol were all distractions.

It seemed all she could do was create lists to check off.

She needed to create a plan for her story. While she had characters and a few ideas about storylines, it wasn't coming together. She was distressed. Not just from the lack of writing, but because of the distractions, and the lack of focus.

She had two story ideas. One, the first, was to be a collection of short stories about a psychologist in a little suburb town that heard the most outrageous accounts from her clients, but had to keep them to herself because of the nature of her business. A woman that toured homes for sale to raid the medicine cabinets of prescription drugs, the guy who killed his wife, chopped her up and stored her body in pieces in the backyard, a dysfunctional married couple that knew two murderers firsthand, a woman stuck in the 80's refusing to go online and other quirks including clothing and hair, a bad pastor, a hoarder and one more ... maybe a teenage cutter that didn't want to talk? A pot smoking teenager that was caught by his mom but had a much bigger secret?

The second story is one that was laid on her heart after reading the fictional story of Dinah, Leah and Jacob's daughter in the Old Testament, named The Red Tent. This particular story would be written around Keren Heppuch, the youngest daughter of Job, and a present day character (PDC).

Keren Heppuch she could visualize - licorice colored hair and eyes to match, a rebel raised in a wealthy household. But PDC would not come out of the closet. She remained silent. The KH story seemed to be the one calling her, and she told many about the idea, but she just couldn't come up with a compelling story line that would capture readers and editors alike. The only premise she could develop was that the PDC was raised in an opposite household, with little money and inattentive parents, yet she "met" Keren Heppuch while reading the story of Job, and had a curiosity about her. Maybe she goes on to research her? Maybe she becomes a bibliologist, or person that studies the bible and biblical artifacts, after receiving her degree and a pastoral certificate? The only problem is that Job is a very mysterious book of the bible. No date is associated with it, so it could have been written during the time of Moses (years), Issac, Jacob or Solomon.

After writing for an hour, longer than she expected, but it was after midnight and she had a quiet house, she felt inspired to begin the short story book, where she would have many beginnings, middles and ends, which felt more accomplishable. She would start tomorrow.