In The Midnight Garden

After a long but mostly-enjoyable day at work, I got home around midnight.

I seem to have misplaced my flashlight, but still wanted to be in touch with the garden a bit and as you can see, I had plenty of candles at hand.

It wasn't enough light to really do any sort of examination of things. And really, I'm a bit too tired for that. But I wanted to spend a little time outside, in the moonlight.

In the garden.


The full Pink Moon (aka the Rose Moon...or, my favorite, the Honey Moon)is fading now, but still casting a nice glow across the landscape, when the shifting clouds allow. They are patchy clouds at least, evidenced by the winking of an occasional star here and there in the sky.

There's a breeze rustling the tree leaves, but gently. The ever-growing sunflower plants leaves flutter lightly, but there's nothing strong enough to put the candles out, some of which are in open air votive holders. They flicker some, of course.

In the distance, I can hear a rushing sound that tells me its high tide, the waves of the ocean lapping on the shore not all that far away. Much closer, at the end of the street, I can hear the thrumming of bullfrogs in the lake.

I take a deep breath and hold it, listening to the ebb and flow, letting the moon's light wash over me. I let it all out again, my breathing matching the pulse of the world. the stresses of a long full and humid weekend drifting away. Only the best memories will remain.

The air, after all, is still thick with the scent of roses and honeysuckle and the garden is full of promise for the days ahead.

"All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous unpremeditated act without benefit of experience." - Henry Miller