Crescent Moons

The crescent moon harkens the new month. Measured by our current months, it is out of cycle. I pause, laugh at the joke. The spring has taken off with fervor. The invasive species, Norway maples, bittersweet, glossy buckthorn, these have brought out full grown leaves by now, as if there would not be enough sun to go around. The older residents, oaks, white and black, hickory and ash, as well as the catalpa, they take their time. Oak leaves are born nearly fetal and slowly expand in size at once with their branch. Norway maples, on the other hand, seem to flower into full grown leaf. Are they a vine? I have been clearing unwanted shrubs and the dreaded, though native, poison ivy from the small patch of Earth beside my house. Putting other plants in pots and in the ground, mowing grass. Absorbing the three or four hours of light still available at the end of a work day. These are the days of physical labor, beakbreaking lifting and pulling, a wrestling of sorts with the overwhelming tendency of life to grow. I am at ease in my stewardship; my thoughts wander to new places as new muscles work the land. I feel a farmer inside me, I find work on the Earth to be part of a healthier whole. The mind must develop alongside the body. Nature presents the greatest workshop, then. When is the next crescent moon? Do you know?

And, meanwhile, back on planet bad karma, memos have surfaced linking the lies we know about to a pre-ordained policy known by Blair as well. There will be jail time for these crimes in my life time. I am convinced of that. We can turn back this war, these evil tendencies. We can. Keep the truth in plain view, no matter what their spin. Pre-meditated illegal warfare is against all the rule of civilized nations. Men who take such steps must be called to account. These Norway maple policies must eventually give way to the staunch spreading persistencies of the oaks of justice.