Something happened when I moved to Georgia: I fell in love with the moon. Maybe before we lived here I simply hadn't inhabited a place without ambient light so that I could fully appreciate the moon. I know that the first full moon or two after we moved, I looked for news articles on the internet to see if the moon was somehow inexplicably brighter than normal. No, apparently she's always been that bright, I just never noticed. Sad if you think about it. So much beauty missed. Since then one of my favorite things to do is take the dog for his nighttime walk under the crazy-bright, full moon.
Then we moved into our second Georgia house, and I fell in love all over again. Here we not only enjoy an incredibly beautiful, silvery magical orb of light, she rises for us right out of the water. Before the weather turned we would swim out into its golden watery path and splash each other with drops of moonlight under a dark sky where everything is lit bright as day and twice as sharp.
Sometimes it is overcast a few days in a row, and I miss the full moon entirely. I mourn the loss of the experience, even though I know it's returning again in only twenty-eight days.
I never know anymore, how long a place, a part, a relationship or beauty will last. Everything is fleeting. Everything is change. The moon herself, she waxes and wanes and the only thing constant is her cycle of growing and diminishing. Her name, "luna," itself means change, inconstancy, unpredictability.
I decided last night as I watched the moon gain a sliver in her journey to full glory, as I checked the calendar for the date her burgeoning weight would grow to fullness, that for this year we will celebrate the unfathomable creativity of God at the fullness of the moon. I don't know what we will do or how, I only know that my full moon nights are numbered, just as my days are. Bonfires, night swims, night walks, whatever strikes our fancy. Likely each one will be as changeable as the moon herself, though every cycle speaks to the immutability of her Creator. And so we will celebrate the change we know is certain and the certainty of He who does not change.