Another Full Moon

One of the great gifts of living in Butte is watching the moon rise over the East Ridge. Even when I lived an hour south, in Dillon, I would often make the evening drive to watch the event. And, although it is a soft and subtle process, it still feels like an event to me.

Last night I climbed up the stairs from the trail to the college after watching the sun set over the Pintlers. I know that the moonrise drops back about 40 minutes each evening after the full moon, and that I could expect to see it just about ten minutes after 10pm. An auspicious set of numbers - if you believe in auspiciousness.

I sat on a wooden bench above Leonard Field and the city below me blossomed with occasional fireworks. I imagine that most people are saving their hoard til this coming weekend and that Friday, Saturday, and Sunday will be full of sound and fury in the Butte tradition. Mostly, I don't mind ... although an acquaintance told me yesterday that a few years ago he had a friend visit from Argentina who noted that Butte during fireworks season could easily be mistaken for living in a war zone in other parts of the world.

As the fireworks soared upward and wrote briefly on the night sky, I thought about how transient they are ... a poor attempt to ape the grandeur of the natural world. I wasn't sure how far north or south the moon would be rising - I hadn't been keeping track recently of her progress - but then I noticed a glow emanating from the scant cloud cover toward the south of the Ridge and I watched as the moon nudged her way slowly into view.

I don't know how old the East Ridge is but I do know that the moon has been rising above it every single day/night for all that time ... that the full moon has risen every single month (in human terminology) for 4.5 billion years and it has been witnessed by "all creatures great and small". I do know that although 4.5 billion years and counting seems like the opposite of transience ... it it is still temporary. Some day - whether through natural means or human arrogance - that moon will no longer be there ... nor will this earth.

I don't know if any of the other "creatures great and small" have attempted to interpret or make a symbol of the moon as we human creatures have. The moon has been seen as god and goddess, as a symbol of fertility and nurturing, it is the symbol of Islam, and on the flags of Algeria, Tunisa and Uzbekistan. In some native cultures, the moon is a warrior chasing, but rarely catching, his beloved - the sun.

Shakespeare says: "Oh swear not by the moon / the fickle moon / the inconstant moon that monthly changes in her circle orb" and yet, there is nothing more constant than the moon that may change throughout the month but always returns: new moon to full moon to dark moon to new. As human creatures in these old old animal bodies we hold to these cyclic changes that express our understanding of constant change and renewal ... of the familiarity within impermanence.

In most western/european mythological traditions the moon is seen as feminine. She is the soft reflection of the masculine sun.  She is symbolic of intuition and emotions. She is mystery - we only ever see her one face and must wonderful about the other ... the dark side.She is the symbol of three ages of women: maiden - mother - crone.

I've said goodby to myself as maiden long ago, and I'm learning to say goodbye to myself as mother ... learning to be friend and peer with my daughter. I see the signs of approaching crone-hood. The dictionary defines crone as "ugly, withered, old hag". I'm not anticipating an aging that extreme. Feminist scholar, Mary Daly, defines Crone as a Wise, Wild Woman. I find myself becoming a little wilder - not in terms of excitement or violence - but less tame in word and deed and stepping more into my own, natural essence. I find myself becoming wiser - able to integrate knowledge and experience into something ... more.

The moon continues to fascinate and delight me. I try to find a way to watch her rise in fullness each month over the East Ridge and to also witness the new crescent as she falls into the sharp arms of the Pintlers. I know what she is ... and I know what she symbolizes - just as I know these things for myself.

*these photos were taken in February 2010