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Tonight is the night of the Full Moon, the Flower Moon, named for the time of year when the buds begin to blossom into flowers.
Tis a fabulous moon, indeed, this evening, and, I suspect, part of the reason that sleep and ease do escape me. I took myself outside and was stunned at how bright and full the celestial orb was in a clear sky. It has practically turned the night into day.
I have always fancied the moon moreso than the sun. I have always embraced the night, moreso than the day.
Tonight is the sort of night where, once upon a time, I would have doffed my clothes and bared myself to the blessings of the moon's silver light.
Alas, I now live within sight of other folk and would not wish to cause them undo alarm with my naked strutting.
And so, I merely stood and watched and appreciated the fullsome moon, bright as any lantern, for a long while before returning to my chamber to scribe these words and wonder what dreams that marvelous orb will draw from the depths of my mind.

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