The Pink Moon

Although we wish this name had to do with the color of the Moon, the reality is not quite as mystical or awe-inspiring. In truth, April’s full Moon often corresponded with the early springtime blooms of a certain wildflower native to eastern North America: Phlox subulata—commonly called creeping phlox or moss phlox—which also went by the name “moss pink.” 

~ Excerpt from The Old Farmer’s Almanac

Awake around 5:00 a.m., I write my monthly newsletter before getting out of bed. So satisfying to start the day with this accomplished! Outdoors, so much is popping out, coming into blooms, so many delights and surprises. A wind froths up the river at the trestle bridge; the surface of the water looks like petals of snow. It’s sunlight glittering on the ruffled current. So much energy in the air. And I am full of energy today. I work on a poem from the letters. It’s okay. I’m almost through with this first draft. I have to really think about why these last three letters have not been working as well as the others. I know there’s an intelligent reason I need to get to. I think, today, I will do no yard work. But, then, it’s late afternoon, and I’ve been sitting too long, and there’s this fine frisky breeze blowing across the field, and some more raking to be done. I delight my daughter by making homemade pizza. My butternut squash pizza is really tremendous, to be honest. When it’s time to be with Monday night poetry, I notice the top half of a super moon rising over the trees above the river in the bright blue sky. And it blazes up, higher and higher, as I meet with the poets and we share our poems as the sky is lavender and then saphire and the navy and then, it’s white beam of moon in a black sky, and we are done. And it’s bedtime. The moon will keep us all wired and wakeful tonight.