I see the moon and the moon sees me

It's been such a long time since last I wrote, and some settings and things have changed on Blogger, so I'm not even certain that this is going to work, but I know I have to get back in here and give it a go for the sake of my sanity. That's how important it is for me to clunk away on this old keyboard (it's so noisy) and to let my imagination take me places I've not yet traveled. In terms of thinking about things at any rate. So the moon, dear old faithful friend, is what I think I'll write about tonight. 

It's late...almost midnight. I haven't looked outside but I know we're not far beyond a new moon, so I'd be wasting my time perhaps. Although it is possible I might get a glimpse of a meteor shower. I heard it would be visible over the weekend. Now it is Monday. Am I too late? I might take a look outside when I'm done here. In the meantime, I will think about what the moon means to me. It is such a beautiful thing, is it not? I love to see it sailing high in the sky when it is full. I have shared many a moody evening with the moon, strolling along the pathways in summery Queensland, balmy breeze caressing my skin as I wondered what life is all about. 

The moon evokes such emotion in me, yet it is a ball of rock spinning in space. Essentially without meaning, without emotion. But it pulls at the water in my being as it pulls also the tides up and down the beaches and river and estuaries worldwide. It pulls at the water in the cells of my body. So small effect, such impressive effect as it brings a king tide and floats the boats high on their moorings. The moon. 

The moon photographs so well. Bright disc shining in the black of night. Digital cameras capable of capturing craters and taking my breath away with the clarity. My ham-fisted clumsiness repaired by the magic of technology. How does it work so well? No tripod in site. Just bi-pod me. Holding the camera, sometimes steadying it on top of a railing or my car and click. There it is for me to contain for as long as I wish to hold it on flash-drive, computer, SD card, phone. This thing that has so much control over me, that gravity bends to its will. I contain its image and wonder at it. I see the moon in the sky, on the screen, in my hand. 

I am less than a dot on the canvas of the earth. Yet the moon, it pulls me to it. It drags my eyes, smaller still, to its glow. It reminds me that there are mysteries. There will always be mysteries. For this I am glad. I have looked to the moon for answers to questions unspoken. I have sung songs to it in languages unwritten as I have walked in its gentle light. Maybe it is madness, haha. Who am I to say? 

Cold, brisk winter nights here in Tasmania show me a harsher moon. Not a gentle light but a halogen beacon staring blankly from above. Morning will come, but it will be slow, it seems to say. Stay awhile; the night is so quiet in the winter. Keep me company a while. I am a night owl. I like the night. It is quiet. It is peaceful. Life is busy and bustling in the light of the sun, but the moon brings peace and solitude. Well, I'm rambling now. The moon sees me. Perhaps not, but I'm pretty sure the man in the moon does. I see his face smiling down at me. He sees me and I see him. And all is well with my world.