Walking in the Wolf Moon

Join me in the dark hours

The front door slides shut behind me with its usual squeal. I am bundled up against the chill, cradling a warm mug in my hands. I am usually a naturalist by day, but lately I have become a student of the night. I step off the porch and into the darkness. I look up to the stars and see brilliant points of shimmering winter-clear light. I turn to locate the familiar Big Dipper. Ursa Major. I have been watching it rotate around the North Star for 6 moons now. As I inhale the January air, an icy cold fills the deepest parts of my lungs. I exhale a cloud of breath.

I have always been a pre-dawn riser. I love the quiet hours before the world is full of demands. My dark morning walks began this year when the air was heavy with the scent of ripe muscadines and the sky was full of stars that seemed to flow around a full moon. Every morning, I watched as the shifting light pass through the trees, making sharp shadows on the ground. As the moon shrank, the shadows grew until they swallowed the light.

I was confounded by the moon-how it appeared in a new position each successive night, while the stars held their place with far less drama, quietly moving around their fixed center point. Had I ever really paid attention to the different angles of our orbits? I found myself looking at the tableaus and longing for a lifetime of intimacy with the celestial lights, the kind the indigenous people knew.

Full Moon Tableaus

Remember when the Harvest moon, her belly full of light, 
Rested on the shoulders of Taurus? Safe from Orion's bow
The Seven Sisters must've been blinded by her radiance
The smell of fermented muscadines filtered through the air
Crickets sang an everlasting chorus of summer’s praise.

Remember when the Wolf moon, sharp and blazing through the night, 
entertained the twins? Outshining Jupiter
Leo stretched his paws out in no hurry to be ushered into the light
The woodcocks launched themselves at breakneck speed into space
Then spiraled down to the winter hard ground.

Full moons eventually wane and become new moons. New moon morning walks require time for my eyes to adjust to the lack of light. Like the Simon and Garfunkel line “Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again…” I find a particular comfort in this void. After the soul-splitting blackness of losing my son, the deepest shadows in a new moon are not at all frightening. The comfort comes in seeing that in the darkest nights, even the ones where clouds cover the stars, there is still light to be found if you are patient. To be able to sit in dark spaces and trust the light is a gift that requires acceptance and courage.

The Gift

I remember it was dark, so dark
When your light shone through the veil 
A pupil of white looked down on me
surrounded by the midnight iris specked with stars
Liquid silver spilled over the meadow
And the light drunk cats licked their paws clean 
I hurried
To the cold dawn hours
Just to see your face
Before it is covered again
The silver light a balm 
For the aching 
The darkness soft
On the edges of the pain

I have been practicing this gift. Making it a season of accepting the dark and looking for the light. I found great comfort in visiting as many Christmas lights as I could over the holidays. It was a joyful way to stave off the weight of darkness. I am claiming a 2026 motto of ‘walking out of darkness and towards the light’. Solstice has passed and the lighter days are ahead of us all. As much as I embrace the darkness, it can carry weight heavy enough to crush me if I don’t remember to look for the light. My dark morning walks remind me I can be in the nigth and still keep my eyes on the stars, on the moon, on the kindnesses and on the love. Every step reminds me to keep the light of hope as a fire burning in my soul. And if I can't find the courage to walk in the night alone, I will call out to my pack, my wonderful people who walk beside me and remind me there is light. 

Finding the Light

When the comfort of the moon wanes
And I am feeling my way
Through the darkest night 
And the easy light of day
Is out of reach
Will you walk beside me?
Will you point to the glimmering pinprick
The shimmer of stars above us?
Will you remind me
It is never fully dark?
Will you tell me?
Even if all the stars fall
There is a light in love 
To guide us towards the morning.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

John 1:5