Under the “Wolf Moon”

Yesterday morning, on the full moon, I read Mary Oliver’s Wolf Moon. I haven’t quite decided whether I should read these moon poems in the morning or evening, but I’m afraid of getting too busy and missing one on its appointed day. What a great poem! I read it several times throughout the day. Dark and utterly appropriate for January, it was almost as if Oliver had walked our trail in winter. I seriously thought about using it to open that evening’s reading and book signing, but I decided the program would be crowded enough without reading a superior writer’s work before my own. It was the perfect way to start the day; it inspired me for the evening’s event.

We hiked out in the afternoon, loaded with large print copies of the edited stories, giveaway bookmarks, camera equipment, cookies and Russian tea. When we met a neighbor on the road, she told us she couldn’t attend, but hoped that a lot of people would.

“They’d better,” I joked, “after what we went through to get there!”

We had dinner with friends, and learned that they would be unable to attend either. We also learned that a lecturer brought in to give a sex education talk at the high school was giving his presentation for the parents, so they could decide whether or not to let their kids hear it. That was scheduled at the same time as my reading, as was the Governor’s State of the State address. That and the weather would be tough competition.

By nightfall the snow had increased noticeably. I shoveled and salted the museum walk, but the snow quickly covered it again. We worked with the museum staffer to set up a small semicircle of chairs around a podium, spread out notes, materials, cookies, hot drinks, and a sign up sheet for any possible overflow orders.

About 7:15 one of our neighbors arrived. We chatted till about 7:45, then decided it was time to check out the cookies, and maybe read a little.

The reading went well. I read an excerpt from my longest story, and an unfinished work, an “extra feature” exclusive to the event. Our neighbor brought along the copy of Shy Ghosts he’d bought previously at the museum gift shop, and I signed it. He’s an author and writing instructor. He commented very positively on the book. That was very gratifying! I guess it’s not the quantity of attendees that count, but the quality.

He had to get back to his sick son before 8:30, so we wrapped it up, cleaned up the museum, packed our stuff, and went home.

Blowing snow made the drive home slow. The full moon, the Wolf Moon, that I’d hoped would light our way home glowed vaguely through the clouds and snow, enough to allow us to cross the bay without headlamps, but the forest was dark, our tracks out invisible under new fallen snow. We made it home around 10:00 pm.

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