I was going to post the recipe for Tofu Sesame Noodles tonight, but sometimes you come across or experience something so breathtaking you just have to stop and share it. The Tofu Sesame Noodles will have to wait.
It’s starting to slowly but surely get warmer here, which is all relative. It’s lighter after work, I have more motivation to get out once I come home and it’s making us all feel like a new life is being breathed into us. This is, after all, what coming into spring is all about.
So tonight I decided to walk the dogs up to the farm, which is my place of peace in this hectic world. Over the tree tops towards the farm from my house I could see a slight orange glow. One thing you should understand is that a slight orange glow above the tree tops at my house, tends to translate into a gorgeous sunset at the farm.
I was not, however, expecting this level of beauty. I cannot comprehend to you what these colors looked like in person.
As it slowly got duskier, the colors became more muted, but were none the less beautiful. It felt like the world did this just for me, just for tonight, and I had a front row seat. These are the times I get filled with gratitude. Overwhelming, overflowing, gratitude that I – one single person among billions – got to see this. No one else got to see this from the same exact spot as me, at the same exact time and they never will. When you realize that we all experience these moments in our life it feels like your heart doesn’t have enough room for the appreciation you feel. If you’ve never experienced me speechless in a moment, and it’s rare, these are the times it happens. Utter and complete silence.
As I realized it was going to be too dark to walk home safely with the dogs I turned around and saw a beautiful big, bright moon rising over the tree tops. I never knew you could see the moon so clearly up here at the farm. At my house, at the same time of night, it’s still peaking out from branches, deciding if it’s ready to wake up yet. But at the farm, it doesn’t hesitate to welcome the night to the cows and cast it’s beautiful light across the field.
There was no way I couldn’t go back up there with my tripod and try to take photos of the moon. I walked the dogs home and drove back up. These are the times I wish I was a better photographer, so I could have picked up the beautiful haze that was around the moon, and the streaks from planes that looked like they flew right behind it just before the sunlight on the horizon was fully gone. Within just a few moments it was dark. Dark as dark can get. No light pollution – just pure, unadulterated moonlight streaming over me and stopping right before the cows. I could hear the crunch of snow under my feet, the nighttime wild life waking up and the cows gently grazing in the pasture behind me on the sparse snow covered grass. Never in my life have I felt so rooted and present in the moment.
Finally I turned and set my camera up on the tripod. I was pretty glad I took care of the camera settings ahead of time because I couldn’t see anything. Then I looked at the moon through my camera and gasped when I took a photo for the first time in my life that wasn’t blown out.
I had, finally, photographed the moon. It wasn’t the best photo – but it was my photo. My first photo ever of the moon.
I guess I never thought about it before, but when you’re staring at the moon through a lens and you are basking in the moonlight the phrase “there is always light in the dark” rung true. I had never really seen it before, even though it had always been there. Funny how that happens.
If you’ve never had a heartstopping moment of being overwhelmed by gratitude, peace, being present and calmness I highly suggest going into the middle of a pasture on a moon lit night and just….sitting there and taking deep breaths of the sharp crisp air into your lungs.
I guarantee you will never feel more alive.