No moon sightings for me

I missed the eclipse.  Thin clouds obscured the shape of the moon until it resembled a shaft of light in the eastern sky.  I fell asleep.  When I awoke sometime after 2 am and lifted the blinds, a curtain of rain was falling down and I went back to bed.  By morning the clouds had parted, the rising sun lit the backs of crows making them glow white and turned every blade of grass into a diamond. 

The robin begins it's song on cue, slightly earlier with each passing morning.  Is it the sun?  Some form of gravity?  The passing of the coolest part of the day?  I saw it sitting high in a birch tree, singing.  It's really no where near my window:  just very loud, enough for all the neighbors to hear.

At the bus stop, the Norwegian maple flicks spent flowers down at me like rain, helped by the slightest of breezes knocking at the branches.  Everything welcoming me to the world.

(It is such a relief to have done the do-over exercise, it's like smashing a dam down and letting the flood of blocked up energy wash all the crap away.  Things I didn't know I needed, at the right time, in the right place, where other people held the truth for me until I could claim it for myself.  It's funny because I was afraid to do it, thought it wasn't good enough, and wondering if there would be enough time for everyone, and then thinking that yes, I wanted to get it done, because everyone that had gone had claimed back power, and they were standing somewhere I also wanted to be.  It was the same with the mirror exercises last quarter, which initially seemed terrifying, but turned into liberation.  I guess that's how it is: there's a chasm you cross, and everything is different on the other side.  You can't go back, but I can't imagine wanting to:  Take back your power.)

I haven't had contact with him in ages...he'll probably show up now, out of the blue, as a test of my intentions: did I mean what I said?  God, I hope so.