This morning the full moon rode along on my rural commute. I saw it out the passenger side window. It tugged smiles from me as it ducked behind building and jumped out again. There’s definitely something about a full moon, and when it comes in December in Oregon it feels like a delightful gift.
Not only did I get a morning full moon, but the clear skies, unusual in Oregon in winter, gave me an evening circle of moon last night and tonight. I wonder about our modern sensibilities mysteriously connecting with millennia of humans who knew they relied on the natural cycles. Is that why I smile at the big, round moon?
I’m lucky (or I made my own luck) to live in the country where horizons are visible, rather than where people rub up against each other and block the view to moonrise and moonset. Horizons help us know where we are, both geographically and seasonally, and when cities block the horizon, it limits the citizens’ ability to relate to the movement of the cosmos.
The sun’s rise and set move so dramatically, when you can see it, that it is hard for me to remember when I didn’t know where the yearly northernmost and southernmost spots are for the sun’s coming and going. Maybe those with elite views can connect like their country cousins, but the city insulates our psyche, making it appear that the quick, glamorous, noisy city is more real than the distant, comparatively empty, and unfamiliar rural horizons.
That is too bad in a lot of ways. Rural is where the whole race came from, where our ancestors’ choices turned into success of the species, where food was an immediate, seasonal, urgent part of life, not a stroll down the grocery aisle with a debit card in our pocket.
The full moon meant that hunting humans could see fairly well during dawn and dusk, the times of day when their prey might be most active. They could also see to attack or defend in case of conflicts. When the early humans lived in hot climates, the moonlight offered a cool respite from the broiling heat of day, when they might spend their time in shelters or caves.
There’s a lot more to a moon than rhyming with swoon. It’s the gentler of the two orbs near enough to dominate earth’s skies. Its cycles pulls menses, tides, and tree sap. These days we may all be wondering what’s over our next horizon? Best to be able to see it.