I am unable to stay up late. My days are so full that I collapse with the sun, as if its orange ball were a weight that drags me down into the horizon within it.
I read about the moon, the super moon, the strawberry moon that was not to be missed last night. But the sun went down and my eyes closed with it and I just had to let it go.
And then, as if pulled, around 11pm, I woke up. My eyes opened and I looked out my bedroom window to see the biggest, the pinkest, most magical moon ever. The glow seemed to go on for a mile, the sky like wings of a flamingo.
I've been looking up more. So much less time here on my computer. I've left instagram for a while (forever?) and I no longer look for my phone. My eyes are on the tree tops, looking out at the distance, catching each bird's flight. I feel I have my life back and happiness is dripping in.
Summer does not want to come to our little island. It's June and we are still having fires, wearing sweaters, drinking hot tea. But the rains that have come with the cold have made our flowers taller than ever, our trees the deepest green, and the air taste like honey.