Howling at the moon

 

Have you ever howled at the moon? Gone out in a field, or out in the open on a full moon night and howled like a wolf or a dog? 

This young lady I met at a business conference said she drives in the suburbs to a field and howls at the moon with other people as a group. She invited me to go with her once, and tempted as I was, I declined on account of my being busy with my hobby and pastime of being a coward.

She explained that about a dozen people meet up regularly when it's a full moon and they howl at it. One of them starts first and makes wolf noises then all the others join in. 

I asked her why they go out in a field and do that. She said because if they did it in town people would complain.

She also added that some of her friends are FOBs; including her. I raised my eyebrows and she smiled at my ignorance and said "Friends of Bats".

It is a preservation and protection society caring for bats; which is a good thing I suppose. 

She told me that years ago we had vampire bats in the UK.

"Here in the UK?" I asked, "I thought vampire bats lived in central and South America not in the UK."

She explained that the UK was full of vampire bats which came out at night and fed off cattle, sheep and horses. Sometimes they fed off blackcurrants and blackberries juice thinking it was blood. Then gradually they turned vegetarians and became fruit bats. 

Now in the UK we only have fruit bats and bats that eat insects.

I nodded politely.

She asked me how long I'd been a vegetarian. I told her I wasn't. She looked me up and down once or twice and walked away.

That's when I realised I was at the wrong Conference. No wonder most people, except me, were in Halloween costumes. She was wearing a pumpkin outfit and I did not realise I was in the wrong place.

The moon

 

Late last night I got out in the garden with our dog. I left him to run here and there, sniffing this and that, and marking his territory once again. The garden is well fenced off, so his territory is obvious from the fences all around. But he prefers his own system of demarcation lines.

It was a clear night. I looked up to the sky and there was a clear full moon. It was bright and shining white. It's been a very long time since I stood up at night and admired the skies with all the shining stars, clouds and the moon. This time was no different, yet different some how.

All there was up there was the moon shining bright. Very light clouds hid the stars. The moon shone like a big circle of light brightening the whole sky. I could see the craters on its surface quite clearly.

I was in awe. How could this big circle, or globe, be up there hanging in mid-air, clearly visible and shining so bright? 

It suddenly was very real to me. I'd seen the moon many times before but I guess it, (or she), was taken for granted. Seen but not noticed. Like so many things in our lives that we do not appreciate or value until they are no more.

Suddenly, last night, there she was. Shining down on me as if to say here I am. Notice me. Consider me. Wonder at my existence. My splendour. And that of all the other stars and planets. Reflect on Who put me here. Who made me. How I am up here together with all the other heavenly bodies you take so much for granted.

Now I am no poet. I have no literary talent whatsoever. I cannot write you a poem about the moon. A song or a sonnet that would make you contemplate on its reality and that of us all in this world.

All I can tell you is that I stood there watching the moon as a frisson ran down my spine.

Last night, the moon spoke to me.

She said, "Get inside you fool before you catch your death of cold!"