The Evening of the Full Moon

Me, myself, and I, sitting outside looking skyward, gazing at the stars, and watching the impressive large yellow moon rise into the dark sky. The man-in-the-moon looks back at me, and branches of silhouetted trees sway with the breeze. I am but a tiny insignificant human, on a small patch of dirt, in a vast country, on a vast planet, in a vast universe.

My solitude is accompanied by the nearby sounds of rustling leaves and crickets chirping in unison. In the distance, a small dog yaps. Closer, following the sound of a large barking dog, I know it is riding on the back of a Ute, heading out of town.

All falls silent once more, yet not for long. The squish-squish-squish sound of shoes scraping along the bitumen, carrying somebody from one point to another, and the sweet purr of the Subaru WRX cruising into the street before pulling into a driveway, echo in the still air. The walker and the driver ask after each other with no verbal response, just a nod of their heads.

Quiet descends as my gaze returns skyward. A blinking light in the sky catches my eye. A large plane, on course to its destination with an unknown number of people on board. Each with their dreams and worries, each with their own story, going somewhere to do something.

A noise distraction causes me to turn my head towards it. It is coming from further along the street, where people have replaced their front house lights with fairy lights wrapped around trees, twinkling and blinking, powered by electricity or batteries. Yet they could walk out their front door, away from electronic screens and big comfy lounges in oversized rooms, step into their yard, look up to the sky, and see an abundance of twinkling lights for free.

The incessant sound of a car alarm on the fringe of the city, where suburbia meets the bush and the farms and the open space of country life, makes me realise I am sitting between two worlds and yearning for both.

As the moonlight spreads further and further, casting its light over a drying landscape, an old memory stirs, from many years ago, of a place a long way away, where I watched the moon rise over the water of the oceanside bay, moonbeams glistening and twinkling on the surface of the water. Such a magical experience that is now just a mere memory.

The Southern Cross is now in view with its two pointer stars, Alpha Centauri, and Beta Centauri. I learnt their names in primary school and have never forgotten them. I am amazed at the things we remember decades later. Suddenly I glimpse a satellite traversing the sky in its orbit, just gliding so peacefully, silent. Amazing.

Pondering this massive natural world, I am one tiny being, molecules made into a living organism. One tiny little speck, a mere smidgen of a pinhead, in a vast country, on a vast planet, on the vast map of the Universe.

What is my place, my purpose here?

What will I leave behind, and,

What might I be remembered for?

Photo by Mumma Sue

 

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