The Pink Moon: the full moon in April. Today is a bright, sunny, crisp day: the calm after yesterday’s storm. Yesterday, by contrast, was a deluge. I got drenched when I ran outside for the school run and errands. Pink cherry blossom petals roiled in the overfilled street gutters, rushing down the street and into the drains. By the evening the sky had cleared and it was cold — winter cold.I could see the glowing sky above our house, and just glimpse the moon over our eaves. I intended to sneak out to look at it, but the warmth of bed beckoned after a long day. So this scene is something I imagined. The cherry tree stands at the gate to Richmond Park in London. I see it almost daily… but I have never seen by the glowing light of the full moon. Maybe someday I will.
One of the reasons why I’m painting full moons this year is because I want to connect to the natural world in a regular way. Our ancestors relied on the moon and the stars for so many things. Even my Canadian grandmother lived by the rule that one should never plant your veggie patch until after the full moon in June. In our modern life do we think about the moon at all? Or the stars? We mostly rely on the glowing screens of our phones and computers instead of the glowing moon and stars.
The one thing I’ve learned from observing the moon is that the seasons change. I’ve been through lots of seasons of growth, from feeling stuck, to grief, to excitement and rest. They never last forever, and there’s beauty in that.
What kind of season are you walking through right now? Tell me below, and I’ll pop over to your feed to continue the discussion!