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Thursday night the sky over your driveway had no moon in it at all.
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That was the new moon, the darkest sky of the month. It came and went late Thursday into Friday, and there was nothing up there to see, because the lit side was pointed away from us.
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The week you are walking into is the week it comes back.
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The Moon Was Dark for Six Days and So Was Your Phone
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The new moon is not a mood. It is the moon sitting between us and the sun, lit hard on the side we never get to see. Nothing about it went missing.
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The thin crescent is already back in the west after sunset. Low over the rooftops, gone by about nine, easy to miss from a parking lot if you are looking down at a screen.
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It was never gone from the sky, only unlit.
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Friday at 4:44 in the afternoon, Eastern time, it reaches first quarter. Half the face is lit. Step out after dinner and it is the flat side of a coin, high in the south.
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Saturday the twenty sixth it is full, and American farmers are the ones who named it. The Harvest Moon rises close to sunset several nights running, which gave them light enough to keep bringing the corn in after dark.
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Tuesday the twenty second, at 8:06 in the evening Eastern, the sun crosses into Libra and fall starts. Day and night come out even for one turn of the clock.
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None of that is about him. It is a calendar, and it was printed long before either of you was born.
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Fourteen days from dark to full. That is two Fridays, one payday for most people, and one weekend where the house is empty enough to hear the refrigerator.
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So the week has a shape, and it arrives in this order:
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Monday through Wednesday, the crescent sits low in the west after sunset. Start things. Finish nothing. |
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Thursday, write down what would have to be different before you said yes again. On paper, not in your phone. |
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Friday at 4:44 p.m. Eastern, first quarter. Look at the half of this you have already done. |
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Saturday and Sunday, the moon is past half and bright. Be somewhere people can see your face. |
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Tuesday at 8:06 p.m. Eastern, fall begins. Put away one thing that belongs to summer. |
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None of that makes a phone ring. The moon is a rock and it has no opinion about anyone you are thinking of.
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It cannot tell you what he is doing tonight. It cannot tell you whether he is coming back. It can tell you that six days of dark have already gone by and the light is coming back on a schedule nobody had to approve.
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The moon will fill on its own, and what fills on your side of the kitchen window is the part you get to decide.
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Also True
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One Sign to Watch
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For the next few evenings the moon is a thin curve low in the west, and curves turn up everywhere once the eye is trained for one. The rind left on the cutting board. The white half circle at the base of a thumbnail. The arc a wiper blade cuts in windshield dust. The band of light under a door left open a crack. Note the first one that catches you when you were not hunting for it.
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The Mirror
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On the night of the twenty sixth, when that moon is full over your driveway, what will you have done with the fourteen days?
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Today’s Devotion: Go out after dark tonight and find the crescent, low in the west, and stand there while you count to sixty. Then come back in and leave your phone on the kitchen counter until morning.
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Keep your power in your own hands.
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Sofia
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