My friend, fellow Boiler House Poet, and Pushcart Prize nominee for 2019, Kyle Laws, has a new poem up on Amethyst Review. For some reason, I couldn’t get the reblog to work, but you can find the poem here: https://amethystmagazine.org/2019/12/21/moonrise-a-poem-by-kyle-laws/
This is the photograph by Barbara Jabaily on which the poem is based.
ABC didn’t sleep very well last night and I was helping out.
We looked together at the moonlight casting shadows on the snow in the backyard. We are experiencing a super moon, meaning that the moon is at its closest to the earth in its orbit, so the moon appears a bit larger.
By the time ABC went to sleep, the lunar eclipse was about halfway to totality. It was too cold for B and me to go out in the yard to observe it, but we could see it from our large, south-facing kitchen windows.
Even though it was called the “super blood wolf moon eclipse”, in our area the eclipsed moon seemed more greenish-white than red, probably due to our atmospheric conditions.
During totality, ABC woke up, so I was in her room for quite a while. By the time I could look out the kitchen windows again, the bright light of the moon was back, casting moonshadows from our trees on the snow.
For the record, I did eventually get some sleep myself…
Join us for Just Jot It January! Today’s pingback link is here: https://lindaghill.com/2019/01/21/jusjojan-2019-daily-prompt-jan-21st/
More information and prompts here: https://lindaghill.com/2018/12/31/what-is-just-jot-it-january-2019-rules/
The Algonquins who were native to my region named the full moon this time of year the strawberry moon.
Usually at this time of year, we are enjoying plentiful local strawberries. For many years, I would go to a local farm to pick quarts and quarts of berries. We would share some with family and then I would put the kitchen in full-blown strawberry mode. Strawberries on cereal or with yogurt for breakfast. Strawberries on fresh leaf lettuce or baby spinach with pecans and goat cheese. Strawberry shortcake. Fresh strawberry pie. Strawberry rhubarb soup. Strawberries on ice cream. Strawberry-rhubarb pie, crisp, or cobbler. Just eating them and enjoying their sweet fragrance.
The last few years, I haven’t been picking myself, but buying them from the local farmstands. We don’t often buy strawberries other than when they are local. Supermarket strawberries from hundreds or thousands of miles away just don’t compare to what our local berries taste like.
I know that the farms will have berries when the wild strawberries that grow in our yard ripen.
This year, the berries are late.
After a mild winter, the spring was chilly. While we had some wet weather in the earlier part of the spring, we are now in a dry spell. It’s all combined to make the local berries late to ripen.
Last week, I was able to find some berries from a farm about sixty miles from here and, yesterday, I finally found some from Broome-Tioga.
There is a fresh strawberry pie setting in the refrigerator. After supper, we will bring it up to Nana and Paco’s to share with them.
It’s best to eat it the day it is made.
It won’t be a hardship for the five of us to finish it.