The creek outside
Last night I dragged my weary-from-workout bones upstairs, got into bed, and came face to face with the moon. Full and bright, he was about the only kind of voyeur I would tolerate; he looked at me, and I looked back at him, wondering if tales of lunacy for being bathed in moonlight were true. Pondering this thought, I listened for a while to the distant whine of traffic out on the Moose-Wilson Road, tires on tarmac, other travelers on their way. Soon the creek outside (or crick perhaps, depending on where you’re from) seeped into my consciousness, not quite a siren song, more a soft lullaby—until I turned in the bed and it rattled loudly, timpanic along with the sudden crash of the blind as the breeze blew in, also orchestrating the leaves outside. I lay there, afraid the creaky bed would wake Cristal downstairs, and just drifted off to sleep when something like a loud speaker right into my ear blasted me awake. I sat up, looked around, and found nothing—but outside an owl echoed my thought: Who? Who, who, who? I don’t think either of us can answer the question, actually. But I might be getting closer to the resolution of the moonlight/lunacy query.
Andrea Downing 
It’s true. Moon glow will drive you to lunacy. But don’t worry. Lunacy is fun. Glad to have you join me.
LikeLike
Wow, I’m in excellent company!
LikeLike
I hope sanity returned with the dawn, or sunrise, or whenever you woke up this day. Our son on the phone rousted me out of bed at 8:30am. Can’t believe I slept so late. I feasted my eyes on your creek photos, I love water, but especially mountains creeks. We lived on the edge of a creek bank in NW Montana, the first 14 yrs of my life, and it still calls to me over the years and the many miles. I have brought my kids to that creek many times over the years, but it will never be to them what it is to me. Enjoy your creek you lucky woman.
LikeLike
I am enjoying it! Sometimes the moose come down to drink there and this morning there were a load of geese on it; I could hear them squawking something awful. ONe kept flying very close to my window–my wake-up call.
LikeLike
I too noticed the full moon last evening – but it looked back at me over the privacy fence that surrounds my urban home. But that orb still overpowers all else in the sky, even where light pollution thrives. Quiet rather than lunacy seems to reign.
LikeLike
Glad you had quiet to enjoy. I love the night sounds in the country; in the city, when I’m in NYC, it seems to be mostly sirens and car alarms and I can’t see the moon from my bedroom.
LikeLike
The ‘music’ of different parts of the country can take some getting used to. Still, I do love me some moonlight, but then some folks think I’m a bit crazy anyway. (Smile). Doris
LikeLike
Personally, I think crazy is good!
LikeLike
Andi,
I love the poetry of this piece with the emotions and images it evokes. My own experience was the brilliance of an incredible strawberry sundae of a sunset Wednesday; the moon shrouded itself in fog to the east, only to peak out from time to time, as I drove home from a soul-filling gathering.
Arletta
LikeLike
I wonder if we interpret the sky in relation to our mood? You were elated from the gathering=strawberry sundae? I remember once, in England, returning from a bad day in heavy traffic and suddenly realized the entire sky had gone YELLOW–it was extremely weird and I sat there, in traffic,wondering what all the other drivers made of it. To me, it was what I thought the end of the world might look like; I really was half expecting aliens to start an attack!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think you must be right, Andi. It was a sumptuous sky that evening after hours in the company of very special women. My mood was happy, stimulated and celebratory.
LikeLike
On that kind of high, Arletta, you probably would have seen a dark stormy sky as a black satin ribbon on an evening dress or something similar.
LikeLike