I’ve always felt drawn to full moons. My grandma used to call me a child of the night, and I guess she was right. Last night’s Hunter’s Moon felt especially mystical, barely visible through the folding LA clouds, like the closing of a chapter. We all move through phases in life—sometimes we shine brightly, and other times we retreat into stillness, reflecting. At least, some of us do.
I used to love running at night under the full moon. Its silvery glow lit up my feet and the quiet streets, and I was captivated by it. But one night, I got hit by a car, and… well, that put an end to those midnight runs. Afterward, I embraced walks with their quiet wisdom, listening to what the night had to offer instead of sweating through it. You can spot me in the neighborhood, collecting my thoughts, often sipping hot tea. It’s the closest I get to meditation. The quiet has its own way of sparking ideas, doesn’t it?
No matter where you are, take a moment to look up. You might catch a glimpse between the clouds—maybe a thought, or even an answer to something that’s been resting heavy on your heart. These are moments meant for reflection. And dream.
Wolverine Lily 