If you’re reading Mary Oliver’s Twelve Moons as a lunar calendar with me this year, it’s August’s last quarter moon, time to read Sharks. As I suggested before, we “circled back” to pick this one up, having skipped over it to keep the full moon poems scheduled properly.
This is a good poem for some people, as August should be prime time for going to the beach (although Ms. Oliver may be accused of being a bit of a party pooper for bringing up the subject of sharks just now). For us on the homestead, hot August days seem impossible. Our weather has cooled down, we’ve had monsoon-level rains, and the days are dark under low cloud cover. Our August has suddenly become one of warm sweaters and hot drinks.
I think a lot about sharks. They’re one of my favorite sea creatures. I’ve written about them on another post and extensively elsewhere, so I won’t do so here. If you’re interested in my thoughts on sharks, you might want to read The Fear, one of my short stories included in Shy Ghosts Dancing: Dark Tales from Southeast Alaska. While it’s fiction, much of the character’s memories and thoughts are drawn from my own experiences and cogitation.