Tonight I hope to go somewhere I can see the lunar eclipse. With all the trees around my house, I can't see the moon until it is straight overhead. In south Georgia where I used to live, the land was flat and I could just walk a little way to an open pasture, lie on a blanket and see all of the sky from east to west. Here, I will drive to the lake, park up on the dam level, and see it, I'm sure.
Life in the mountains is much different from life on my beloved farm where I grew up. I don't remember hardship as a child although we had little money. I had my sister to play with every day and my sweet and loving mother always near. I didn't miss what I didn't know others had, like fancy dolls or toys. I used my imagination, as did my sister, Gay. We played farm using Daddy's tobacco bags with their string ties as wagons for our horses which were Daddy's empty match boxes. Sometimes we played farm under the big oak tree. I would be the horse pulling the plow (a long tooth rake) while Gay handled the reins, a long hay string that reached from my mouth to her hands.
When I think about playing farm, I realize that was what we saw day in and day out--my father and my brothers working on the farm. When we weren't playing farm, we played with my sister June's cosmetic bottles and her high heel shoes. The bottles were all sizes, and they made fine families of grown ups with children. The bottles fit into the shiny shoes, and we pretended the family was going for a ride in the car.
The two of us lived in our imagination.
When we went to bed at night, we composed stories in our head until we fell asleep. I learned in later years that my father did the same thing. He read western novels by Louis L'Amour. Before he fell asleep, he made up his own western stories. I wish he had written them down. I'd love to know what he thought about.
Tonight's Moon
When I go out tonight to see the moon, I'll think about all the moons I've seen in my life, who I was with when I gazed up at the night, where I was at the time and why I remember them. We remember things for a reason. If there is no reason, we don't remember. Maybe I'll take a notepad and jot down my thoughts as I watch what happens in the sky.
Do you have any moon-watching memories? I hope you will share them in the comments.
This is from an email I received:
ReplyDelete"Once again I enjoyed reading your blog on Writing Stories about the lunar eclipse. I especially liked hearing about your fun times growing up and about my dear Aunt Lois, your wonderful mother! Thanks for letting me (us) have a glimpse into your childhood."
Your cuz,
Rob
My cousin, Rob, has become a faithful reader of this blog and I appreciate him so much. He and I are close in age, but his father was my first cousin. My mother loved Rob and enjoyed him visiting our home.
ReplyDeleteI only remember full moons - like the time I saw one rising behind the Campanile in Venice while Paul, I, our children & a couple of friends sat and listened to an orchestra play nearby. Talk about magic! I also have a vivid memory of one here in S. Florida because the sky was dark with some stars on one side and lighter with fabulous shades of blue with a few clouds on the other. And the one when I was driving across the Wyoming desert with my brother towards his home in Cheyenne. Another magical memory.
ReplyDeleteEllen, thanks for sharing your comments about moons. Your images of what you have seen are strong and I feel I was there. Miss you here in the mountains. Enjoy Florida.
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