Moon Rise

Last night I tried to stay awake to see the moon rise, but there was a thick band of cloud on the horizon so while there was a perceptible glow, the moon itself was hidden. As it passed midnight I muttered ‘white rabbit white rabbit’ (doesn’t everyone?) and woke to a cool breeze straight from the Pacific, hot coffee and birdsong so marvellous I sat outside in the sun with a blanket and just listened. A man’s voice echoed across the water with a wonderful rich rolling Indian/Pakistani accent (think Deepak Chopra!) – not so common in the US as in England, so I sat in a sentimental haze, dazzled by the swallows. Aaaaahhhhh.

I could never have invented a moment like that, but it just happened. A gift.

I am in far better temper today, buoyed by interesting correspondence and this lovely post It thrilled me to the core that Gaia gets it – that deep, sentimental attachment to something which connects to your past. Proust’s madeleine indeed! thank you Gaia!

About Tricia Rose

Not distracted by shiny objects.
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3 Responses to Moon Rise

  1. Maya says:

    I love to just listen to nature! And I love Deepak Chopra's books too, haha!!!

  2. Tricia Rose says:

    I met him, and as he spoke my eyelids drooped – I was so used to listening to his tapes before I fell asleep!

  3. Leslie says:

    Funny — I say "rabbits rabbits rabbits" on the first of the month!

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