The morning commute began; to my left, December’s cold moon still reigned high above the sleeping mesa. To my right, pink skies slowly warmed dark mountains till the barest sliver of blue light shone between the peaks. As I crested La Bajada, the sun began to claim the day, sending moon to rest and wait.
As we walk through this season that boasts euphoric reunions and won’t let us forget painful separations, may we remember the cycle of the sun and the moon. Hold less tightly to each; let them pass over and through us as they will. Both have an abundance of blessings and lessons to help us continue walking.