There is a certain irony to this prompt falling on the night of the full moon but life can be paradoxical, you know?

Moonless Night reminds of me Dreamless Sleep, which showed up a few days ago, in that it’s not a natural imagining for me. I don’t imagine sleep without dreams, and I don’t imagine a night sky bereft of moon. Even when it’s dark or new, it’s still there. But for the sake of this exercise, I shall endeavour to explore the concept.

Without the moon, the sun should have no time of reflection, no sense of how the night delights in shadow. The stars would likely do their best, brimming with age-old brightness in an attempt to echo any messages or madness which might otherwise have been beckoned by the brilliance of a low hanging orb.
The tides might turn tail and hold back, the inhale growing deeper with every moment, dark sand and black sky fusing the lips of the horizon. Would it leave us eager for the crack of morning sun to spill out, a smile of distinction, a separation of perception to easily determine what is up and what is not.

I’ve never really understood how the moon controls the tides. I know that it’s gravitational something something but there are many things where knowing how something works doesn’t necessarily add or detract from its majesty. What would happen to the night blooming flowers? Do they rely on the light of the moon to blossom in fullness? Or is it the lack of lumens which encourage efflorescence? Again, idle curiosity rather than burning drive to know.

The moon is such a constant for me. Something that, no matter what sort of day(or night) I’m having, I can turn my gaze to the sky, and settle into a certain stillness that comes of knowing that this is just part of a cycle. Whether full to bright bursting or Cheshire Cat sliver of a smile, the moon contains magnitude, memories, and madness. And if the moon can hold all that while continuing to shine, even when it takes a break from being visible to the naked eye, then I’m sure I can too.

Photo by Max Saeling on Unsplash