Moongazing

 

My recent fraught grocery shopping expedition revived a memory from my college years, in which I had clearly sought solitude amidst a frenzied situation. Without these pockets of peace, I tend to feel battered.

Just over 38 years ago, before Dale and I were married, we traveled to another part of South Africa to participate in the annual students geography conference. There were students from universities all over the country and there was much socializing, and getting-to-know-you group activities over a long weekend. One evening, I wandered off on my own, away from the hubbub, to sit and stare quietly at the moon. I needed some alone time, some time to regroup in the midst of all the socializing and stimulation. It was restorative.

I happily sat against a tree trunk in the dark for some time until Dale appeared, looking for me - he'd noticed I was missing from the crowds, and had come to check that I was feeling okay. He stayed for a bit, and then left me to my peace, allowing me to enjoy my reverie.

Moonlight across Lake Androscoggin, Maine in 2007

It was my salve in the midst of all the bustling activity and opening up to new friends. Recounting this incident has also helped me appreciate the isolation of the COVID pandemic - it has given me 'down' time after a demanding, life-changing move to new continents, raising kids alone, and making new friends and connections from scratch. I'm obviously referring here to a whole different time frame of activity and decompressing. COVID has been my catch up time to 'stare at the moon' during a busy 'weekend' of activities, as it were.