Lunatics Abound

I was enjoying a cup of decaf at Timothy's in the village. Grendel and I hooked up with Sassinak. We had just come from the Trinity Bellwoods park. We were watching the fire-breathers and listening to the throng hammer away at their drums. As I looked south, with my drink in hand, I saw the full Sturgeon moon just above the rooftops, and for the moment I couldn't think of the name that was bestowed on this particular full moon.

Thank goodness for the Farmer's Almanac. They're up on this sort of stuff, and I found the link to Full Moon Names page. It was bothering me that I couldn't remember the name. Everyone knows the Harvest Moon, but the other 12 or so full moons of the year are largely unknown. I suppose it's just another sign of our modern distance from the natural world. We don't observe things like our ancestors did.

My favourite example of this tendency is something my mum told me many years ago. In the Beaver Valley lies an abandoned stretch of road that went by the name of "The Mile of Seven Corners", not far from where my mum was born. The road has since been moved and straightened a bit, and the old name fades because we wouldn't bother to name it. We'd go flying by in our automobiles and perhaps we might notice that the road was winding a bit. During my mum's childhood however, the slower pace would have made everyone take notice. People observed things. People had time to look at the sky and the environment. It wasn't just a stretch of winding road. It had a descriptive name.

I'm thankful that I've inherited some observational skills from both my parents. My dad taught me to look at the world at large. Take in the big picture. I give him credit for my curiosity about the world at large. My mum, on the other hand has an eye for the little details. I have had the pleasure of hiking in the bush with her, and while it's a slow going process, we are rewarded by my mum's observations and recollection of a large number of the plant names along the trail. It's something we could stand to emulate rather than just dismissing things out of hand without looking at them closely. You probably know the old admonition to "stop and smell the roses."

When I am forgetful about the details, as I was last night, I catch myself and try to refresh my memory. Thank goodness I know enough to know that I don't know everything. The world is a fascinating place, and I wouldn't want it to pass me by, especially when it's so well lit by the Sturgeon Moon.