We’ve had the most striking full moons for the past few nights. Last night it looked as though a giant floodlight was beaming down on the field. We may need that extra light on busy harvest days. For now, I just marvel at it’s serene beauty.

I keep the light off when I make late night trips to the bathroom so that I can get an undistorted view of the light the moon casts. I notice - for the first time ever - that it’s position shifts noticeably every hour. When I went to bed last night the moon was shining brightly from the south outside our sliding door. When I woke in wee hours it had crept to the southwest, giving me that perfect bathroom view (could the moon be responsible for restless sleeps?).

It called me outside this evening for one of my favourite country experiences: a moon shadow walk. I love walking at night. Anywhere, really. Between giant skyscrapers on King Street, down cobbled streets in Edinburgh, along wooded paths with a flashlight, past bizarre neighborhoods in Berlin, over mountainous sand dunes in the Sahara. There’s something about the moodiness of night lighting that draws me in.

A moon shadow walk tops them all though. All distractions seem to fade away as the scene turns into a simple connection between me, the moon, and the ground beneath my feet. I don’t hear the sounds of nature as I do when I walk in the pitch black and have to rely on my other senses. It’s silent. Just me, the moon, the earth.

Perhaps it’s the same for plants? Part of my winter research includes delving into different ways of growing, and followers of biodynamic farming claim that growing by the moon’s cycles can improve growth by 10-15%. It’s fascinating stuff this lunar gardening but I’m not sure I have the patience to follow it strictly. Anyone tried it?

Sleep tight, my pretties!