While the sun waits for no man, and the moon seems even more fickle, the odds of catching a shooting star are astronomically stacked against our favor. Still, the weekend in Virginia had already proven itself more naturally wondrous than any other in recent of distant memory. The loveliness of ladybugs in the main house, the pair of bald eagles that Suzie and I watched from the dock earlier in the day, and the perfectly sunny and warm atmosphere of an incongruously marvelous November day halfway down the Eastern seaboard had all indicated that something magical was afoot.
Following dinner and a firepit circle of s’mores for dessert, the moon called to us from behind the trees, and Cormac and I headed down to the dock to more closely view its splendor. It hung there brightly, a few days beyond its full Beaver Moon exhibition (said earnestly and without snickers) surrounded by a firmament of stars. The evening was fomenting the atmosphere for somber and serious conversation.
We began innocuously enough, with some silly superficial talk and comical references before a shooting star or some other-worldly object entered the atmosphere and streaked boldly and brightly across an immense swath of sky. Perhaps stunned by this sharing of such a sublime glimpse, talk turned more serious as we spoke of Cormac’s Dad.
We listened to the moon and the stars, and in between the comfortable stretches of silence the occasional splash and gurgle of a fish breaking the surface of the water reminded us that we weren’t alone. Suzie joined us after a while, her footsteps crackling through the fallen leaves the only indication of her presence until she spoke.
Three friends sat in the dark shooting the shit beneath the moon. A century and a half of life between us, plus whatever living the fish had beneath their scaly belts, we could speak honestly and openly, in the way only a moonlit night might invite.
Did we solve the world’s problems?
No. Not even close. We couldn’t even solve our own.
Did we make the world a little easier to bear in our shared wonder and puzzlement?
I think we did. And look… what a little moonlight can do…
SEE ALSO:
Part 1: Driving South with Suzie
Part 2: A Loveliness By the River
Part 3: November Sweeps in Virginia
Part 4: Shuck Off, Mutha-Shuckers!
Part 5: A Solitary Sunset Elicits Happy Tears
