I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read one for Martha Van Vactor’s reflection That Night.
That night as predicted, there was the beautiful huge, very larger-than-life moon lighting up the night in an ever-so-peaceful and quiet time. I felt an instant, overwhelming rejuvenation in the sight of that large moon seemingly close enough to reach out and fearlessly grab!
Then I looked around at my surrounding so well-lit for a change in the darkness of normal nights in the desert. Just a short time ago here was a slight wind with cars, people, birds, dogs and other animals wondering about. But not now! The world was unworldly quiet void of all the normal comings and goings.
All was quiet and still as if awaiting the opening notes of a concert. The surroundings seemed to be focused – the lines sharper, but in a friendly, inviting fashion. Everything seemed to be at its best and more confident in its shape and manner.
I was drawn to its quiet, majestic manner – such perfection in its simple form. More like a finely crafted exhibit than the normal, oft hap hazard landscape. Were the boulders always that sculptured? Do all the trees in the pecan grove always lean to the south? Was the mountain range always that well defined in so velvety softness?
And where were all the night creatures? Were they, like me, afraid to even move or breath too heavily for fear we would break the spell? I lingered far longer than wise – alone at the edge of the town, alone in the desert night. I soaked up all the soul-nourishment that nature gave as if there might not be another. That night, only dawn broke the spell, but my being remembers all that was offered for the receiving.
Martha Van Vactor is a retired educator whose academic career centered around English literature, language arts, speech/communications, theater/drama, and special educational needs. She currently resides in Green Valley, AZ, USA.
