Half Moon

Half a moon is better than none when Bessie Anne wants to go walkies at night.  It's amazing how much moonlight is cast when there are no street lights, no neon signs, no flood lights, house or car lights to dull that lovely glow.  I didn't need my hat lamps last night to see the numerous piles of deer scat that told me a pretty large number had recently passed through the property, using the driveway as a thoroughfare.  Perhaps they also were out for an evening stroll.  Pearl was off doing something important, but Frank joined us on our walk.  He has trouble staying on point, darting off to inspect this leaf or that, lagging behind just so he can thunder past us.  The mountain was very quiet last night as Bess sniffed her way around the driveway, stopping to leave a few scents of her own here and there.  Joel told me they'd been awakened a few nights ago by a troop of raccoons squabbling under their windows.  I'd just as soon not run into even one of those masked marauders.  Cute as they are, they can really do a number on a dog.  Another reason to walk Bessie on a leash and not let her out on her own after dark.

Six o'clock on a Tuesday morning and it's pitch dark outside.  The sun hasn't risen and the moon has set.  I could use that half moon to see to get the trash down to the big road.  Shadow, the mini-donkey down on the corner, is braying his morning song.  It's time to start the day.