|Rather a less tranquil moon than the one I watched last night.|
The moon is waxing. I love these bright, cool nights when a body can sit out in the yard and see almost as clearly as if it were daylight. I like to sit on the bench under the lilac tree, and have the yard and the barn and the house and the trees in shadow all around me. I like to look at the house, and see the lights still burning inside.
I want to implant my memory with these things.
I have determined to enjoy my home for as long as I can. Sooner rather than later, it will all be pulled apart, and I will have to move on.