I like the moon.
I like what it does every month…
… Or, technically, every twenty-nine and a half days.
I like its folklore, its mystery, and the uniqueness of the names we give each month's full moon, and don’t forget the occasional Blue Moon.
What I really like about the moon is that it belongs to all of us.
I like knowing that a friend in England, Tennessee, Indiana, Montana, or Texas can step outside, look up, and see the same moon that I am looking at.
We might not be sitting in the same backyard. We might be separated by hundreds or even thousands of miles, but we are standing on the same planet, looking up at the same sky, and somehow, that moonglow brings us a little closer together.
October's full moon is called the Hunter's Moon, although I have always associated the October moon with Van the Man Morrison.
There is something about a Moondance underneath the cover of an October sky that makes it a marvelous night for romance.
Van understood that.
I am a Cancer, which means, according to the zodiac, I am ruled by the moon. In fact, Cancer is the only zodiac sign ruled by the moon. The rest of you are lined up behind planets.
That explains a few things about me.
Maybe that is why I get sentimental. Maybe that is why I occasionally find myself staring into the night sky, contemplating life, love, and everything in between.
Hell, I probably cry watching Brian's Song because of the moon.
Speaking of moons, all my former lovers and exes have witnessed the legendary Shepley Moon.
Usually in the morning, when I climb out of bed and make the long journey across the bedroom to put on my trousers.
Not exactly the celestial wonder we are discussing here, but a full moon, nonetheless.
From here on out, whenever you look at the moon, I want you to think of me. Think of me standing somewhere, looking up at that very same moon.
Just don't think about those few awkward steps between my bed and the dresser.
Some things are better left to the imagination or on my OnlyFans page.
The Hunter's Moon is October's contribution to the nighttime sky, and Saturn will be keeping it company.
Then comes November's Beaver Moon. Yes, I have a sophomoric observation about that particular name, but in a rare display of maturity, I am going to let it pass.
December brings the Cold Moon, illuminating the winter sky and perhaps helping Santa Claus find his way through the neighborhood.
While the days are getting shorter, that doesn't mean I am putting the sun up on the shelf.
I love the sun. I love what it does for my disposition, and I intend to enjoy every minute of daylight Mother Nature gives me, but these longer autumn and winter nights offer something special, too.
They give us more time to appreciate the moon.
There is something wonderfully reassuring about its predictability. It waxes, it wanes, it disappears, and it returns.
Month after month. Year after year.
Long before any of us arrived, that moon was hanging above the people who came before us…
…and long after we are gone, it will be shining down on those who follow.
The same moon that illuminated the evenings of our grandparents now shines over our children.
The same moon that watches over Riverside shines above England, Tennessee, Indiana, Montana, and Texas.
And for a few moments, no matter how far apart we might be, we are all sharing something.
A little moonlight.
A little wonder.
A little reminder that this enormous world isn't quite as big as it sometimes seems.
I love big butts, and I love full moons.
One of those observations is more profound than the other.
I will let you decide which.
Tonight, step outside. Look up and find the moon.
Think about someone you love who might be looking at it, and remember, even darkness gives the moon room to shine.
Enjoy its gusto and astonishment and do not forget to smile at the sun when it returns from behind the clouds.
