It is our family's pagan tradition to head to ancient sites left open courtesy of the Greek Cultural Ministry each August full moon night. As the moon makes its journey across the night sky - garbed in the bleeding beauty of its own lunacy - we will pay our respects to it.
This time, we will observe it from the seaside Temple of Poseidon at Cape Sounio, 65 km west of Athens. So, as we gaze at its steady portrait overhead, we will also catch a glimpse of its shimmering twin sister skinny-dipping in the tide beneath, naked and radiant.
We'll bring cheese, wine and hotdogs to nibble as we make peace with our own thinly-veiled insanity (for just one night, at least). Perhaps, if we are really lucky, we may capture moonbeans in our paper cups and drink from the potion of its intoxicating reflection.
And when I gaze into my husband's eyes, I may see the image of the moon and fall in love again with the moon of other days. Well, stranger things have happened you know...
THE MOON OF OTHER DAYS
By Rudyard Kipling
Beneath the deep veranda's shade,
When bats begin to fly,
I sit me down and watch -- alas! --
Another evening die.
Blood-red behind the sere ferash
She rises through the haze.
Sainted Diana! can that be
The Moon of Other Days?
Oh, and if tonight you should happen to gaze out your window to seek the full moon, perhaps we may for a while be together in essence although we are apart...
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