Good Night Moon

As I do every night, I stepped out onto the deck to whisper down to the boys in the dry lot my wishes for a good night sleep, safety and good health.  While much of the country is suffering frigid temperatures, it's 45 degrees here at midnight.

The patchy clouds are doing their best to obscure the waxing moon; determined, she'll have none of that.  The storms from the Pacific Northwest are blowing across, committed to a duel with the Cascades; maybe they make it over the mountains to bring us moisture on the eastern side, maybe they don't.

Staring up to find the roadway of millions of stars called the Milky Way, I was mesmerized by the constellation Orion as it appeared to be drifting, detaching from its place high in the southern sky this time of night.  The sky started rotating, twirling, floating.  The satellites in orbit joined in the play, steadily moving in one direction while the billowy clouds moved opposite.

Unplugged.

Three of Pentacles

Walking to the barn tonight, I inhaled deeply.  My chest expanded, bursting with the crisp autumn night air.  Accompanied by Bodie, I relaxed my shoulders, slowed my gait, extended my clenched digits, and breathed in again.  Rather than scan the horizon, I scanned the night sky.

There is a noticeable shift in energy on the ranch.  A heavy, sad presence has lifted.  The air is swirling in a different direction now.

High above our heads, the stars and planets are alive and dancing.  The Milky Way, unobscured by the long-standing smoke of the Pole Creek fire, dashes across the ebon canvas.  The Pleiades have reappeared, calling to mind a Native American story of the Seven Sisters.

Such peace.  Such beauty.  The possibilities are infinite.

This morning I drew the Three of Pentacles.

Why Not Baseball Blog?

There have been quite a few curve balls being pitched my way these past few months.  Some have been easier to swing at than others.  Some have been just too darned wild to gain focus to begin to grip.

Then there are the moments when the pitch comes right to me.  An easy, "here you go" kind of pitch.

I still cannot identify that constellation in the south sky.  Tonight one of the stars was really flickering red.  And then just above it, the Milky Way was streaming.  As I sat on the stoop at the barn letting the goodles out for a late night stadium-fare, Rayito, one of my feral cats, comes walking out from behind the barn.  I haven't seen him lately.  He comes in just close enough to catch his vibe, he looked over at me to let me know he was doing alright, and pitter-pattered over to crouch down and watch the goodles browse.

I nodded my head in appreciation of the moment.

As I was walking back to the house, admiring the sparkling red star in my unknown constellation, a shooting star pitched itself in my direction.  I laughed.  I put out my catcher's mitt and caught that star in flight.