The Moon moves to fullness, her peak, around lunchtime today (here in Ireland). You may have seen her high and pale and full last night. By tonight she’ll be on the wane. And so this morning I’m sending you a few Moon Ditties. Flash fiction inspired, sparked, by names for that moon. Four are colloquial, Celtic and Anglo-Saxon, and one is Native American, (listed in brackets below) but just too beautiful and resonant to leave out.
Plough. (Crow.) Wind. Seed. Worm.
In these names there is the entirety of the month. March. Month of Lions and Lambs, of ides and days dressed in green. Month of spring fever and snow piled high. Of ice and budding trees, wild winds and warming soil. Treacherous month, blessed month. Mad as a hare and meek as a lamb. Month to keep those jumpers on over dresses and to keep hearts safe and close least they slip through your fingers and fall through the too thin ice.
These tales are of soil and the moon fallen down, they are of magical women and crows on the wing, they are of lovers and mothers, storms and hope. They are full of spring fever and those everyday, fairy tale magics.
Brew up a cup and let me tell you some tales. Xx
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