Tuesday, December 21, 2021

_{(December’s fullest “Cold Moon” is Waning Gibbous; January’s fullest “Wolf Moon” will rise on the 17th.)}

Here today on the West Coast, the 2021 Winter Solstice will occur about 8:00 a.m. (PST). That’s when the sun will be taking its lowest and shortest path through the sky. And when we will see our shortest period of daylight. Afterwards, daylight will start increasing, daily, by seconds. In early January, we actually will see daylight increasing. It’ll add about a minute a day, mostly apparent in the evenings.

Annually, I celebrate days of Winter Solstice. A turning point, making me barely able to await a January’s beginning. Once the extending light becomes apparent, and despite whatever outside weather may exist, my heart feels warmer, my energy expands.

Newly expanding light represents enlightenment and hope. In my life, it energizes the caring of property and livestock. In everybody’s life, it encourages rethinking the whole world, in general.

About my deeply-held appreciation of Winter Solstice. I suppose it’s tantamount to my fascination with newly arising moons, as they’re shedding first-lights on otherwise blank-dark horizons. Those first lights are like a dawning of consciousness, it’s as if a known world is beginning anew.

“New light”, what does that represent to us all? How about, in our childhoods? During our twenties and thirties? And afterwards, in long periods over which our lives and brains evolved? What does it represent today, in regard to who we may be, wherever we may be?

In my past life, as a city girl Winter Solstice never meant much. Only after I self-re-identified as a country girl did solar system and natural lighting became big deals. Just a few seasons of trudging through darkness, and in rain or snow, to take care of large animals, will make an individual start to embrace the solar system, and ‘heart’ its rhythms.

Today, I’m aiming to publish before 8 a.m. For that’s when I intend to be outside, standing tall and wide-armed, to welcome this Solstice.

Dear Friends: As January’s “Wolf Moon” beckons, just imagine the possibilities. Diana

Monday, December 20, 2021

_{(December’s fullest “Cold Moon” now wanes gibbous; January’s fullest “Wolf Moon” will rise on the 17th.)}

Tomorrow is the Northern Hemisphere’s winter solstice. At approximately 8:00 a.m. (PST) will start Earth’s “astronomical winter” which introduces both an ending and a beginning. Exactly then, will occur Northern Hemisphere’s fewest daylight hours of the year, and in other words, this year’s longest night. The Southern Hemisphere will have its shortest summer day. From that point, Northern Hemisphere’s natural daylights will stop dwindling and instead gradually lengthen.

Essentially, our hemispheric Earth world will begin its transition from darkness to light. The changeover is a physical phenomenon, it’s scientifically defined. We actually will witness changes that occur.

Our known world, concurrently also, will remain dark, but in ways not scientifically defined. Earth’s people have evolved in cultures that bring many different social and political views often worlds apart. The conflicting, deeply-held views can’t enable proper facilitation toward making significant repairs to our Earth.

Differing opinions and worldviews about social and environmental concerns represent a basic conflict that today’s leaders can’t resolve. It’s about how, and whether, to continue enabling a relatively small portion of world citizenry to keep accumulating great wealth, and keep very tight grasps on it.

With much of our planet under pressure, countries have begun looking skyward. Technology is wonderful, space is exciting and dreamy. Hopes of someday colonizing other planets shouldn’t suggest an eventuality of escaping Earth’s very desperate needs. We must fix our planet. Somehow.

Dear Friends: Darkness to light, equally about physical phenomenon and worldviews. Diana

Sunday, December 19, 2021 (January’s fullest moon [“Wolf Moon”] will rise on the 17th.)

The caption photo shows December’s rising nearly-fullest moon, on the eve prior to its reaching a point nearest to Earth. That moon was gorgeous in early evening’s sky.

I turned in the opposite direction, and saw sky colors above the South Sister Mountain. The streaks were from a lowering sun, settling behind the Cascades.

Even Bend’s Pilot Butte, ordinarily mundane, now captured some of light’s mysteries. That butte is a collapsed volcano, about a mile high and very visible. It seems to have existed forever. In the 1800s, Pilot Butte guided wagon travelers who sought pathways to various Oregon destinations. Many travelers continued westward, on to Valley and Coast locations. Some who settled near the Butte created the settlement of Bend.

Sometimes this small city feels larger than it is. Many locals including myself, often look for the Butte to determine current locations. From across town, the Butte’s visibility offers direction-identification and an approximate distance to ones home.

Last night, I arrived home late from work, couldn’t catch December’s fullest moon’s first rise over a dark horizon. Already, that moon was climbing and through clouds, nearly as dramatically as it might have been at earliest rising.

I rushed to get a camera and myself in place, to capture the moon’s rising through semi-dark clouds. By the time I was organized, the moon above turbulent clouds was on its own and lovely.

The Cold Moon is aptly-named for its year-end presence, and it’s also Earth’s “longest” full moon. Cold Moon’s higher trajectories across the sky keeps it sitting above the horizon for longer periods of time.

This month’s full Moon is considered a “micromoon”, or the opposite of a “Supermoon”. Supermoons are full moons that appear larger than typical full moons because they’re closer to Earth. In 2022, three Supermoons will appear, on Tuesday, June 14; Wednesday, July 15; and Friday, August 12.

Dear Readers: I hope to continue capturing fullest moons and marvelous skies. Diana

Saturday, December 18, 2021 (December’s fullest moon [“Cold Moon”] rises tonight.)

I went to a restaurant for dinner, with friends. Being with them was enjoyable. The restaurant experience worried me.

In the first place, the well-known venue didn’t require mask-wearing. In the second, although it pleased that an elderly woman was our waiter (A retiree had landed a job, hooray!), she frightened me by working without gloves. Her fingers were everywhere, on water glasses and plates, even touching foods.

Earlier that day, my Jeep for an hour had drifted with a long line of cars toward a drive-through Covid booster setup. That evening’s waitress, with bare hands carelessly handling glasses and plates of food, concerned me. My friends, as far as I could tell, didn’t share my discomfort. Our dining event had been important to them. Otherwise, I’d have walked out.

Hopefully, that episode won’t spread Covid. Hopefully, my immunity is adequate to survive such surprising encounters.

Probably, like that waitress, my having landed a job directly results from problems in today’s environment. Lots of people unwilling to return to work are leaving vacancies for Seniors wishing employment. I’m happy to be working again and among the public.

I’ve worked as a food handler. The law for handling requires specific and well-defined cleanliness. A wait person not wearing gloves, should at least handle plates and glasses in a manner unoffensive to diners.

Am I too picky? Have I too much fear of Corona Virus and its variations?

Thinking back to my food handling days, I recall some coworkers who focused more on productivity than on cleanliness. I never touched a single output from their efforts. Yet, “those sloppies” were popular, and many customers consumed foods prepared by them.

Since the beginning of pandemic, I’ve avoided public eateries.

As a student of history, and a modern learner, I’m aware of deplorable conditions negatively affecting all of Earth. Consider the reduced numbers of wild birds and honeybees, and melting ancient giant glaciers causing ocean levels to rise. Plastics, discarded and non-recyclable are everywhere. The Corona Virus and its mutations have taken tolls, world-wide, on livability, product availability, and inflation. Masks, vaccinations, and booster shots aren’t jokes.

If there’s a “next time” that I’m invited to dine in a restaurant, I’ll decline. Or depending on who’s asking, opt for home-cooing.

Dear Friends: These days much is different, and many refuse to be on board. Diana

Friday, December 17, 2021 (December’s fullest moon [“Cold Moon”] rises on the 18th.)

There are pleasant things about being old. Experience has taught that while working among young people, I should keep a low profile and stay out of their business. Low profile means keeping to myself, such as education, experience, and life lessons. Staying out of “their business” means remaining uninvolved in social/political opinions and romantic ventures.

I practice limiting my comments, opinions, and observations to whatever we share in real time. For example, I’ll say, “That customer was weird.” Usually, others will agree. I’m hearing generally good feedback about my participation on the team. That’s pleasing.

Here’s a sweet thing. A young co-worker told me of saying to her mom that she “just loves” me. They wonder if I have an invitation for Christmas Day, have invited me to join their family that day.

Well, I’m too old and far-away from a young family’s experience, to anticipate feeling comfortable in that situation. Kind and fun as the family might be, and despite my affection for a sweet co-worker.

Another sweet thing. I’m going with friends who wish to take me out for dinner. That’s caused a decision situation. I’m uninterested in eating out, since before the pandemic. That stay-at-home-and-be-safe-stretch cinched my disinterest. Besides, having worked in food service, I don’t particularly trust food-handling in big kitchens. I’m not saying that all public food handling is bad. My avoiding simply reflects an achieved mindset.

But I’ve accepted my friends’ invitation, it’s important to them.

Thank Heavens, that although I’m elderly, often distrustful and grouchy, it’s become possible to thread through a few personal tangles. So far, I’m navigating challenging waters that offer work-groups, generational divides, and friendship sharing.

As to The Big Holidays. I’m accustomed to spending them semi-alone, and also joyously, with my wonderful critter family. I don’t seek more, but aren’t taking lightly spontaneous kindnesses from friends and coworkers. It’s all good.

Dear Friends: Dark winter, a cold-season environment, facilitates closeness. Diana

Thursday, December 16, 2021 (December’s fullest moon [“Cold Moon”] rises on the 18th.)

We moon chasers creatively will capture this month’s fullest moon-rise. I’m scheduled to work on the 18th, will help to close the store and not get home until late. By then, the full moon will be floating high, if even visible in our snowy, gloomy-trending skies.

If a visible globe is overhead, after feeding horses and walking uphill to the house, I’ll try to capture it. My fellow “chaser”, Susie, plans to be outside earlier, photographing. Sometimes unfortunate circumstances lead to happy outcomes. Maybe our December efforts will have us winding up with interesting photos.

Susie and I have chased nearly a year’s worth of fullest-rising moons. We’d enjoy creating a calendar for Year 2023 featuring our best photo captures. Many show this year’s risings as dramatic and compelling, others reflect moon strength and beauty.

We’ve experienced in real time the sudden light that appears over a dark horizon. In those moments of dawning, Susie and I have understood how since time immemorial moonlight has attracted and excited humans, and most other living creatures.

We’re falling back and punting now to achieve our goals. A whole year’s worth of monthly risings, and a 2023 calendar of full-moons.

Dear Friends: Little interruptions alter processes and need working-around. Diana

Wednesday, December 15, 2021 (December’s fullest moon [“Cold Moon”] rises on the 18th.)

This is my first day off, after a string of them behind a cash register. My busy workplace carries tough, lasting cold-weather clothing. The customers range from those wishing to look expensively “campy” to real time workers still grubby from the trenches.

It’s seductive to see and touch various apparel purchases for wearing and gifting. The store’s parent organization has given all employees a generous gift card. After days of thought, I started buying, and the gift allowed me a relatively-cheap makeover.

It feels that expensive clothing alters “my look”, transforms me. From pitiful, muddy rancher in Costco-cheap, to quasi-expensive, hip country-gal.

For years, I worked inside Costco and buying there has satisfied. Now there’s a problem from new jeans, shoes, and shirts. They comfortingly differ from cheaper, thinner clothing. Better elements of design, sturdiness, and padding, plus sporting designer labels, creates a little “head trip”.

It’s been years since I’ve experienced this. Way back, in my career days, I carried real leather bags, scribbled with uber-expensive pens, wore big-name watches, and so on. Everybody did in the corporate world. Expensive signalled stature. The instant I retired to Oregon, all that went away.

I’ve enjoyed my Costco trappings which signal “rancher with horses and dogs”. For awhile though, seasonal gifts from my employers will be fun-reminders of old days. I’ll play, but we all know the outer trappings don’t “make” a person. What does is the inner stuff.

That’s what I think about while checking out customers. Whether they’re draped in expensive or old ranch-stained, I’m seeking “some inner” of each. There’s little time for this. We check customers out quickly to avoid waiting buyers. Truthfully, a few seconds are enough for hints as to “the who” of an individual. Those glimpses are fun.

For awhile I’ll enjoy gifts that revive memories, but not for long. Truthfully, I wouldn’t exchange a single day of my retirement for a single one, or more, of the old days.

Dear Friends: Customers in working wear present more as honest and open. Diana

Tuesday, December 14, 2021 (December’s fullest moon [“Cold Moon”] rises on the 18th.)

In a quiet moment a companion checker and I stand beside our registers. She’s twenty years old, very bright, tall, slender, attractive, and fun to work with. Besides, she’s a natural teacher, has helped me grasp many ins and outs of our “register biz”.

We’re silent at this moment, until finally, I sigh and say, “Well,….” I lose my thought as she looks over waiting. I smile, shrug, and say, “A deep thought.”

“What?”

I say, “Well.” But she frowns, doesn’t get it. I try to explain, “It’s a reference to ‘Well’, as a deep thought.”

“What?”

“‘Well’, just the word. ‘Well” is a deep thought.”

“What?”

I’m trapped, can’t communicate the logic of a phrase that’s a cultural norm among my generation. True, it’s been awhile since I’ve uttered, “Well….,” before losing my thought or deciding not to express more. The cultural norm in my day was terminating by shrugging and uttering the phrase, “That’s a deep subject.”

Listeners of my generation will reciprocate. On seeing my pause or shrug, another might end the moment for me, by laughing and saying, “That’s a deep subject.”

From generations behind, this moment’s attempts to explain to a young companion aren’t grasped. I feel deeply a generational gap. Well (and not intending a pun), I’m trapped in “a gap” about which she hasn’t a clue.

Yesterday in the lunchroom, something similar occurred. While several snacked and stared at our cellphones, I’m uncertain what happened. I read something or heard a comment that reminded me of an old movie, from 1944, entitled, “Farewell My Lovely”. It’s a detective story that starred a then-famous actor, Robert Mitchum. The script was based on a successful novel, “Farewell My Lovely”, by Raymond Chandler, an applauded author of dark stories.

Anyway, something I read or heard made me, after rising and saying, “I’m returning to work”, give a big wave and add, “So, farewell my lovelies.”

A something-twenties coworker laughed and handed me a surprise, “Coming from anyone but you, Diana, that could sound creepy.”

For explaining purposes, 1944 is eons ago and way before I comprehended movies. But I did grow up in eras of Hollywood’s great influence on culture. Suddenly yesterday, I recognized a string of associations that’s been long-stored in my subconscious.

Anyway today, I’m still loving the phrase and great title, “Farewell My Lovely”. It’s fun having stumbled yesterday, re-finding a few forever-stored bits in my mind’s deep pocket.

Plus, I “heart” a trusting young friend who wouldn’t judge as creepy something coming from me.

In the future, I’ll try to pre-think before speaking spontaneously. I’ll do well to consider possible differences in generational understandings.

Except for when I’m ringing out customers of a certain age, many of whom shop in our store. Sometimes, after swapping some sudden old-understanding, we do for seconds connect deeply.

Dear Friends: An old lady among younger’ns will practice treading thoughtfully. Diana

Monday, December 13, 2021 (December’s fullest moon [“Cold Moon”] rises on the 18th.)

Another morning with limited time to write. Today, I’m a store-opener, and tired. We working there have been slammed with customers. Don’t misunderstand, that’s a good thing! But afterwards, we’re finding our ways home, exhausted.

Several days ago, a newspaper article sent me to a link for the Monterey Bay Aquarium. It offers a live feed from its Jelly Cam, where watchers in real time can see jellyfish swimming, all beautiful and relaxing. After live cam hours, recorded feed offers the same pleasurable viewing.

They’re soooo relaxing, those jellyfish! I’m practicing, evenings after work, spending a little time looking at jellyfish. An easy way to allow for myself time to drift and dream.

I’ll share, here’s a link: https://www.monter,eybayaquarium.org/animals/live-cams/jelly-cam

If you crave more action, select another live cam. The aquarium has dedicated cams on its Sea Turtles, Otters, Penguins. One outside and on the aquarium itself shows goings-on.

Dear Friends: Convenient, kind pauses, for feeling, meditating, creating. Diana

Sunday, December 12, 2021 (December’s fullest moon [“Cold Moon”] rises on the 18th.)

Today, a quick hello before it gets time to leave for work.

I’ve something on my mind. More proof of the devastating influence of humans on our environment.

We’ve long been aware that wild birds in large numbers are diminishing. Now, after analyzing 92 percent of extant bird species, scientists have found that no single avian species numbers more than l.6 billion individuals. This is remarkable.

First, because it implies that humans, despite weighing more than common birds, outnumber every single bird species.

Second, because studies show that humans are fostering huge numbers of farmed chickens. In 2019, these avian species, numbering 25.9 billion, prove that chickens are now Earth’s most common bird species.

Humans are the reason many bird populations in nature are declining. Just as every year, human consumption of farmed chickens is rising.

My reference: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/silent-skies-billions-of-north-american-birds-have-vanished/

Dear Friends: Selfish human dominance, devastating and heartbreaking. Diana