I was posting over on Blogger and mirroring to this site, in order to check out WordPress and see which I liked better. WordPress wins, so now I’m going to just be posting here.
One thing I like about WordPress is that it shows me lots of information about traffic. As I write this, this site has gotten 51 hits. I have no idea who you people are, since I haven’t given this address out to any of my friends yet. Welcome, whoever you are. Hi. I just assumed, over on the Blogger page, that it was only read by people who actually know me and hardly at all by anyone else. I can see that this is not actually the case, and I like that. I keep an online journal in order to share my experiences – there’s another journal, much more extensive than this one, that is kept in a book, written by hand on paper (a process that feels oddly uncomfortable and archaic) that nobody sees. If I didn’t want all this to be read it would be in that book. So, again, Hi! Good to see you here. I did some minor editing and took out a few posts that seemed uninteresting or out of place. Enjoy.
I spent this weekend Out of the City. I have some friends who have a beautiful, snug little farmhouse out in Hickland. I have a friend who is an accountant, and she and her husband and her son – who collectively are three of my favorite people in the world – came out to my friend’s place in Hickland for a tax-a-thon. She did taxes for seven different people in one day, which is a feat of superhuman strength that should be celebrated in the history books. So we were there for the tax-a-thon, but also to be with people that we love.
There was an eclipse Saturday night. We were all eager to see it, but were thwarted by clouds – only the barest smudge was visible through the cloud cover. When it became apparent that totality was past and we missed it, everyone went back inside. I went off into the woods, down a path to a little clearing where my friends have a fire circle. It’s not far from the house but out of sight, and totally out of sight of neighbors or road. I looked up to where the moon-smudge was and started chanting “Awen.” Before I had even finished the first Awen, the clouds parted and the moon, still half-eclipsed, came into view. It was perfectly silent, and there were enough patches of snow on the ground to reflect the moonlight back up to me. The clouds were high and blowing fast, and I stayed there, chanting Awen, until the moon was fully back in view.
I don’t get to be outside alone at night very often. Around here, any place that is dark and isolated is not a place to go alone, because when you get there you probably won’t actually be alone and the company is not good. It doesn’t actually get dark or quiet anywhere around here. I miss the quiet dark.