Tag Archives: moon

Oh, my dears. It’s been a long week. And it is Friday night. The sky is dark, the moon is traveling past the stars, and much of the world is readying for bed. Curl up and listen to the tales I weave, until your eyes grow heavy and you slip into slumber, ready for the Dream Maker.

Every Blue Moon that rises in the night sky heralds the singing of the Sentinels. Though they look like a cross between a mushroom and a lotus plant, Sentinels are protectors, much more than a salad ingredient.

Cousin Mieke has a garden full of Sentinels. They surround her tiny house in Hoogeveen and protect her from vandals and ne’er do wells. Perhaps these tiny little soldiers are the reason the townsfolk believe Cousin Mieke is a witch. Perhaps the townsfolk have passed the tiny cottage near the woods during a Blue Moon and heard the Sentinels’ song.

When the Blue Moon rises, the Sentinels turn in unison, raise their faces towards the moon, and sing. With the moonlight reflecting off their lotus pod faces, the Sentinels appear to glow with an other-worldly power. And their song – oh, their song. Both haunting and sweet, the music seems to come from the earth and travel to the Blue Moon, as though there’s a bridge we can all cross to dance on the moon’s face.

So tonight, as the Full Blue Moon rises in the sky wherever you are, turn your face upwards. Let the moon glow reflect off your face and feel the earth sing around you. That’s what the Sentinels are doing.

Sleep tight, my pets. Dream deep.

It is Friday night and the close of our first day of Fall. The sky is wet and the moon is hidden behind clouds thick with rain. Much of the world is readying for bed. Curl up and listen to the tales I weave, until your eyes grow heavy and you slip into slumber, ready for the Dream Maker.

An ancient God, its true name long lost to mortal man, once roamed the dark forests of the world, protecting mankind from all who would seek to harm it. In the early days it was dangerous for man; our fragility was so clear in the wild and other creatures were so much stronger and more adept at brutality than we were. So we needed this ancient God, a being powerful and blood-thirsty, to shield us from terrestrial demons.

It is said that its eyes glowed like fiery coals and that its dark skin was patterned with exotic designs. The origins and meanings of these designs have been lost to the ages, our myths and legends failing us. A great dark mane, woven with carved beads and the bones of slain foes, flowed down its back, clattering a chilling song as it ran through the forest on its nightly journeys. And its mouth, filled with teeth as sharp as needles, issued a haunting cry to the moon, warning all that the Beast God was on the Hunt.

But if this Beast God is no longer with us, what is that cry that we hear just past the Witching Hour? What causes that strange rustle of leaves around us as we hurry into our homes on dark and stormy nights? What makes that clattering, like wooden beads and bones, if not the Beast God running just beyond our sight?

Perhaps we are still protected, though the foes are surely not clawed and scaled. Can this Beast God protect us from our fellow man? Is that why his cry sounds anguished when the car horns and train rumbles fade and cease?

Sleep tight, my pets. Dream deep.

Last night I gardened by the light of the waxing gibbous and thought about Neptune. It was the planet’s birthday yesterday, after all. So while I planted herbs by moonlight and Bubo soared and swooped through the dark sky, I realized that so many people don’t enjoy the dark night like I do.

These folks suffer from nyctophobia. Are you one of them?

Nyctophobia (pronounced nik-tuh-FOH-bee-uh) is a noun meaning an irrational fear of the night or darkness. It stems from the Greek nycto (night) + phobia (fear).

Nyctophobia is rather common in children, and most folks grow out of it. Some postulate that a subtle fear of the dark could be evolutionary in nature, since many predators hunt in the night. Those folks who find the dark so frightening that they avoid leaving their homes at night suffer from severe nyctophobia.

Interesting note: a related word in English is the medical term nyctalopia – a condition characterized by an inability to see when it is night or dark. I had a great uncle who suffered from nyctalopia. I often wondered if it’s because he spent an awful lot of time around Tesla and his coils. Always wear protective eye-wear, my pets. Safety first.