Moondance

I found this in a journal that I wrote back in 2005

So last night I had a moon bath. I came home around 9 o'clock ---drove up the very dark driveway and up the hill. I parked the car right in front of the dahlias.

I climbed out of my metal contraption; away from the comfortable control-temp air and cushioned seats, and into the magical spotlight. The house was dark, but the moon was bright.

Very, very.

I couldn't even see the milky-way, bright.

I walked as quietly as I could--around the field--surrounded by inky black trees and a navy blue backdrop of a sky. 

The grass, illuminated by the celestial lamp, was soft and swishy. 

My feet took a turn around the tomato plot, past the chickens and up to the goose pen--by the fence, where my ears heard them rustle and stir in the darkness.

My white house was a pale periwinkle with all that light shining down, looking quiet and despondent.

My hands found the pockets of my coat. They nestled down in the cozy cloth for a moment, but the moon was too powerful...they had to be out in the night.

I discarded my coat.

And my shoes.

And my socks.

I climbed up on the back of my car and moon-bathed-- my hair falling around me---drinking the sweet darkness and the moist air.

I lay there, sprawled out for no one to see.

Just me and the moon.

I didn't want to go in. It was 9:45 and I had promises to keep.

I slid off the green metal, my feet landing on soft moss. I collected my clothes, and my keys.

Reluctantly---slowly--I turned toward the house, the moon at my back.

Then, with a final magical surge I danced, one moonlit dance in my driveway. My arms wide open to the sky--my feet strong---my body spinning, I danced--and danced, and...stood.

I stood bathed in moonlight.

Then walked onto the deck with pitter-patter feet...

with the door open, a wave of warm kitchen air and broccoli soup wafted about me.

Different air space than my moon-stage outside. But...I shut the door.

and had a quiet bowl of soup.

I wish it were warm enough for a moon-bath-dance tonight.