Have You Seen the Moon?

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November has come to the rabbit patch in a friendly fashion.  Days are born slowly with fog and make the territory look enchanted, for a while.  The sky has been shades of lavender and pink-and the sun a very bright tangerine color at dawn. By mid morning ,  the November sky is a soft blue and the air is mild.  The woodlands are only hinting of autumn now , but daily, I see the leaves brightening. Fresh plowed fields are littered now with autumn leaves in colors like gold and ruby.  Last night, Christian and I watched a silver moon rise over a field.  I was thinking how beautiful it was to stand with my son, now a young man, by a field, in the twilight hour.  We have done it a hundred times before, but this does not spoil the effect in the least. Sometimes, one of the older children will call and say “Mom, have you seen the moon ?” .   . .and I know they remember.


It is a pleasant thing to wake up as you please.  Christopher Robin, my cat, was having cream at seven.  Cash, my boxer, had returned to his station . . beside me for more sleep.  I was having coffee.  Oh, everything is changing at the rabbit patch.  The young woods have flashes of yellow and apricot.  The earth is spangled with leaves in all sorts of autumn hues.  I love the way it looks, but my Mama would not.  Mama will not have a dozen leaves in her yard, on any given day.  She is the same way over pine straw and the hateful pine cones, that prick your hands without mercy.  It does not matter the season, Mama’s yard is tidy. . . to think it used to be a pasture.

I remember Daddy digging trees up from the woods, and bringing them to the yard to plant.  He had selected dogwood, sycamore, long leaf pine and oak.  I doubt the average person could do so now.  It was probably second nature to daddy.  The sycamores were planted for quick shade.  The dogwoods were planted-because they were dogwoods.  Now daddy has apple trees (some he grafted), pear, blueberries and a huge grapevine.  Mama planted flowers.  The whole yard is full of azaleas, peonies and tulips.  Mama has spider lilies, from her mother and a hydrangea too. In the spring, folks slow down on that country road, when they are going by the house.

Flowers that are passed between loving hands are somehow different from the ones bought at a garden center. Most every southern home has something “from a mamas’ yard” or a great aunt or grandmother.  Of course, at the rabbit patch, I have “Miss Susie” flowers-which are really tanseys-and  “Miss  Sylvia” irises that are a watery shade of blue-besides the family heirlooms.   . . The three generation spider lilies, Grandmamas’  “running periwinkle”  and a cape jasmine my parents rooted.  I have to mention the purple loosestrife from Mama, again.  She gave them to me from her own yard because they bloom too late in the season, to suit her.  Already, I am plotting how to transfer these flowers to the next rabbit patch, with a smaller house and yard.  . .on some day.

By mid morning today, the light was still dim.  If the wind subsides the least bit , I may burn the garden- then again, Kyle would be disappointed to miss the annual fire.   Besides, Christian smells rain.  So instead,  I will tend to the housekeeping and browse through the “Christmas Closet”. 

I have always fared better to shop through out the year.  In this way, I remain sensible about the budget and most importantly,  preserve the beautiful Spirit of Christmas.  A gift of  a fine soap suits me and the boys ask for socks without fail.  Brant likes books and Christian will want guitar strings, paint and sketch pads.  Such things satisfy us-they always have- Hence,  today, I will take an inventory of the “secrets” in the Christmas closet.

  I put the windows up as  I went about my chores. Christopher Robin slept through the whole process.  The Farm Life community was quiet.  Combines and tractors sat idle under shelters.  Dogs here do not bark without reason.  They are too well cared for, for such nonsense.  Not one dog had any reason today, to bark.  The only sound to hear was the light breeze stirring through the trees , which helped my floors dry quickly.  In no time, the fragrances of rosemary and peppermint soaps spurred me on to complete more tasks until it was late in the afternoon.

I do not mind the time change, as most do.  What I wish, is that we would stop altering those dreadful clocks altogether.  The sun itself is the only authority on time, after all.  It is much more pleasant to measure time by lengthening shadows.  Morning comes when the sun rises, and the clock has no say in the matter.  I also do not believe that a day in July should last til nine pm.  It all seems quite  an unnatural affair to me.  It is the same with seasons -they come and go as they please, no matter how we call them.

Still, I will abide by the rules and if I can find a clock that works at the rabbit patch, I will restore it to the correct time.

Dear Rabbit Patch Diary,  I am glad for parents that provided a loving and beautiful home.   . .for a daddy that walked in the woods so he could plant trees . .and a mother that planted flowers.  I am glad for the sun that does not tell the time with “bells and whistles” but gently chides us through the days with changing light-and I am glad that sometimes my children ask me “Have you seen the moon?”


32 thoughts on “Have You Seen the Moon?

  1. The moon has been beautiful. But we did finely get some much neede rain. Only 8/10 but it was really nice because it came over night and didn’t get a chance to dry away. The thunder was really noisy and rolled on what seemed like forever. Trees are changing we just don’t have the grand show like up North.
    I too wish they would just leave the clocks alone. Every one in my house says a different time so guess it really doesn’t matter. Farmers and country folk are from sun up til sun down and if by chance you raise young men it is son up til son down. Enjoy your early service…I’m looking forward to mine.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Have you seen this organization http://www.lawoftime.org They may be far out but appeal to your time sensitivity. They have a point of view that we are designed on a 13:20 cycle that is aligned with our 20 digits and 13 major articulations. This further corresponds to the moon which has 13 cycles per year. 24 hour days are relative to the 24 digital articulations (minus the thumbs) and this seems to go back to egyptian times.

    They say that 12:60 time is derived by the Gregorian Calendar and thus the Vatican (which we know is evil or mal-intended the devil) so I don’t trust it if it’s coming from that organization.

    That said, we all have nature to tell us what is true and right, and keeping our own time seems true. What is then time is keeping time with one’s souls’ own rhythms. My thought, rather than being replaced by artificial or not, structures that are imposed on me from outside, such as a prison or barriers of thought, seem relative in the sense that i am a thinker and as such I can think myself out of such a conundrum, which seems relative to phenomena. Do what keeps you happy and don’t betray yourself, but do what is right. As much as I hate that word, and I do hate that word, what I mean by it is trust your heart and the love and expansion that you feel. Right is trust and expansion. That’s all for now. Obviously, these are my thoughts.

    Bjork says to protect your language, and to declare independence -don’t let them do that to you, and make your own flag, and raise it higher. I am.

    I understand this all may be too much, or that I haven’t appealed to your southern sensibilities, though that is interesting, as my father was from Mississippi, and my mother is a recovering cathoholic (fear) as am I.

    The moral of the story, if there is one, and there isn’t, is to liberate yourselves from mental slavery, and don’t behave poorly if that means to behave wisely. So behave poorly in the eyes of others but don’t ever, betray, yourself. I repeat. Don’t ever betray yourself. If you do, get up, brush it off, move on. Success=failure. Duality is a no no. God is everything. Spirituality is moot. Be happy and trust your gut -intuition to be wise and let it hammer home the truth.

    I am my own Nation State. How did that happen? That I got a social security number? How did that happen that I became a number in a system. How did that happen that I pay or don’t taxes to someone whom I don’t even know or does things that I do not agree with? Is that Babylon, the Us Government? Alas, they will not shape my fiction by any antagonism or duality. I’ll walk the razor’s edge in-between the phenomenal world’s opposites. Taxes, no taxes. Governments, no governments. Success, no success. Right, wrong. Good person, bad person. Liked, disliked. Accepted, unaccepted.

    What’s that they say? Accept yourself. Be yourself. Hardly anyone knows what that means. Few do. Some do. I know some who do. Do you? Do I? Sometimes.

    Be well,
    Rabbit Patch Diary

    I enjoyed your imagery. It is calming and thoughtful and colorful.


    1. I think growing up on a farm, it was ingrained in me to live by the rhythm of nature-thus I have never gotten used to doing otherwise. Of course, holidays were few and far between too-I always hoped for morning showers on the 4th of July if not you worked til late! haha! thank you always friend! love Michele

      Liked by 1 person

      1. you are right-my son has an antique clock-it is lovely and I have an old schoolhouse clocks that chimes low and sweet-i don’t mind those too much-not like I do the plastic modern flashing and screeching ones! Truthfully it is the attitude of time and the rushing life I detest mostly! Thoreau has a great quote about rushing-I painted it on my barn! ha!

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  3. The moon is beautiful here lately Michele….big and orange. I heard the other day it was called a Beaver Moon because the Algonquin Indians knew when the moon looked like this it was time to trap beavers so they would have warm furs for the winter.
    I totally agree with you on sticking to one time. I told my husband I didn’t care which one they picked as long as they would pick one and stick to it all year long. He votes for Daylight Savings Time LOL.
    Loved reading about the flowers….Most of mine have come from relatives and friends.


    1. Yes-it is called the Beaver moon-and it is lovely. I like the monn for a lot of reasons-one is that in some way it binds us all with its’ shine-we all share it and the beauty it brings to our longer nights. Thank you dear Faye. love always, Michele

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  4. Michele, I am a moon-groupie, too. My brother & I are spending a week @ the beach in Chincoteague on the Eastern Shore of VA. The first night I woke up at 3 a.m. with bright moonlight coming in my window, then got up to give it a better look. Just beautiful! 🌙✨⛱🌙✨

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  5. I really appreciate the way you provide detail of wonderment and deliciousness in your post, then re-touch each of your major thoughts in your poetic Rabbit Patch Diary entry. It is a comfort for me as a reader to know I’ll be allowed to visit and think about your most important thoughts one more time.

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  6. “It is a pleasant thing to wake up as you please” I love this statement and one that I look so forward to!!! Saturday’s full moon was the brightest for this year as it was in direct opposition to the sun. It was so bright my backyard was lit up almost as if it were day. I agree with regarding the clocks I don’t think it’s as necessary to change them anymore as it used to be. I think I prefer the clocks were they are at now…even though it means I drive home in the dark. I love how your father picked out all those trees and all the hand-me-down flowers…makes it oh so special. I love that you have a secret Christmas Closet too, that is so magical!! xo 🙂

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