Saturday Mournings

She sent a year of worries off with the Mourning Moon, rose at dawn dreaming of the return of fairy tales.

Thanksgiving eve fell on the night of the Mourning Moon. I spent the evening under a banishing wind, twisting my thoughts into the smoke of the darkest candle. 

The mourned were drowned, deep into the Mississippi as it goes… 

Saturday I woke up new with an orange shadow beaming her way back in. 

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Floating along a bayou, tucked into between cemeteries and ancient stories it seemed to be a perfect fresh start. 

You will enjoy certain pleasures you would not fathom now. Let yourself be inert, wait till the incomprehensible power ... that has broken you restores you a little, you will always keep something broken about you.... it is a kind of pleasure to know that you will never love less, that you will never be consoled, that you will constantly remember more and more.
— Marcel Proust
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Out on the water I found the creatures in my mind's fairy tale alive all around. I won't share all the moonlit tales of what exactly the Mourning Moon is... I barely know. However, as the New Year draws closer, I find it's a good time to reflect and let the year's old go. Send it way off into the night. I like the idea of having something to meditate over, and a drowning old wish seems to be a good place to start. 

 

Btw, few of us can really paddle alone. So when you find those who'll captain for you, hang on tight. At least that's how I'm feeling. 

p.s. Ben made an excellent boat captain on Saturday. And a Mourning Moon partner in crime too. So I'm surely thankful for that. 

Have a beautiful week you guys. 

xoxo,

Andi

Wanna take your own trip? Shop my Bayou supplies here. I'm in love with the scratch off travel journal and there's lots on sale, you guys!