Beaver Moon
Oregon is the Beaver State and tonight is the Beaver Moon. Very fitting that it should be my first full moon here at The Hideaway. It will rise in the sky over Mt. Hood, visible from right outside my front door. This will be a marvelous welcome to my new home. Princess and I will take a moonlight walk and revel in the beauty of this place.
When the last full moon rose, I was watching it from the front porch at Terrapin Station on my last night in Osceola. The U-Haul was packed and we were stretching out in sleeping bags on the floor waiting to take off at dawn on the long journey west. That whole scenario seems years ago and it amazes me that it all has happened within a month’s time. I am here. I am “home for the holidays.”
My household is finally unpacked (or at least all the boxes that aren’t going into the storage shed are empty), and the cartons are broken down and gone to recycling. Most of my objets d’art, gee gaws, chotchkes, souvenirs, mementos, etc. are set here and there throughout the house. Books are on the shelves, dishes in the kitchen cupboards.
The dining room table is finally clear of pictures waiting to be hung and miscellany that had no obvious home. We will eat there for the first time tonight when Andy and Laura come to celebrate his birthday, their engagement, and the full moon. We’ll watch the Johnny Cash special on TV (with great reception and a “pause” feature thanks to the new cable hook-up and DVR).
When I was a child, this moon was called the “Rutting Moon,” describing the behavior of many species before the long cold winter and hibernation set in. These “unmentionable” activities created the new life that burst forth in the Spring. Political correctness has altered some of the terms that offended and now it is more common to hear the Native American names such as “Beaver” instead. So called as this was a time to set beaver traps in order to have warm furs for winter.
The Algonquian Indians had names for all the full moons related to nature and the seasons. When the white settlers first met these tribes, they adopted many of the names. You probably know some of them. For every month there are at least two or more versions, depending on where you live and how delicate your sensibilities.
Whatever you call it, the full moon rising is a spiritual and awe-inspiring sight. When you see it, think of me and I will think of you.
When the last full moon rose, I was watching it from the front porch at Terrapin Station on my last night in Osceola. The U-Haul was packed and we were stretching out in sleeping bags on the floor waiting to take off at dawn on the long journey west. That whole scenario seems years ago and it amazes me that it all has happened within a month’s time. I am here. I am “home for the holidays.”
My household is finally unpacked (or at least all the boxes that aren’t going into the storage shed are empty), and the cartons are broken down and gone to recycling. Most of my objets d’art, gee gaws, chotchkes, souvenirs, mementos, etc. are set here and there throughout the house. Books are on the shelves, dishes in the kitchen cupboards.
The dining room table is finally clear of pictures waiting to be hung and miscellany that had no obvious home. We will eat there for the first time tonight when Andy and Laura come to celebrate his birthday, their engagement, and the full moon. We’ll watch the Johnny Cash special on TV (with great reception and a “pause” feature thanks to the new cable hook-up and DVR).
When I was a child, this moon was called the “Rutting Moon,” describing the behavior of many species before the long cold winter and hibernation set in. These “unmentionable” activities created the new life that burst forth in the Spring. Political correctness has altered some of the terms that offended and now it is more common to hear the Native American names such as “Beaver” instead. So called as this was a time to set beaver traps in order to have warm furs for winter.
The Algonquian Indians had names for all the full moons related to nature and the seasons. When the white settlers first met these tribes, they adopted many of the names. You probably know some of them. For every month there are at least two or more versions, depending on where you live and how delicate your sensibilities.
Whatever you call it, the full moon rising is a spiritual and awe-inspiring sight. When you see it, think of me and I will think of you.
posted by Free Spirit at 7:38 AM
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