I wish I’d had a camera to catch the moon tonight. It was a bit like this but lying on its back in the way that Dineson once wrote about it in Out of Africa.
The sky was very dark, and the stars just coming out. It’s so clear. I made a decision today. It has taken me many long years to come to a place of clarity and the moon tonight seemed to affirm that — paused in the sky. Sometimes there are places one must leave because they are too sad.
And into what uncertain future I don’t know — but it can’t possibly be worse than this is. It cannot.
I will be happy, and strong. I will live.
I’ve seen the moon set twice into the sea in my life. Once, as a red crescent when it was the fire season and the ash had tinged the sky with so much smokiness the moon was red. A red crescent. We climbed the hill in the hot winds by the sea and sat for a long time as it set, saying nothing. It was gigantic and perhaps an omen.
Tonight I was alone. I sat by the sea and watched the moon and stars for a long time. The whole moon in its round fullness could be observed. Finally it fell into the sea with a slim golden smile.
Two days ago, the sunset was so beautiful. The clouds have been exquisite and all I want to do is paint them. They were out over the island and as it grew dark and they turned purple, they looked like islands themselves.
It was the strangest thing to observe that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before in quite the same way. I was walking on the beach and it was breathtaking watching the sun go down — island upon island — cloud islands. For some reason this seems to be a year of sunsets and sunrises.
The color in the sea is luminous in winter light.
I want to be on the water. Then I can see everything.
I’m going to be.
I’ll be fine. There is a little community waiting for me there and I will never be alone because I’m like my grandfather. People know me wherever I go. I’ll never be alone. I’ll be fine. I am more alone here, than I am when I am out. That says something about how this has been for something like 27 years.