The moon is so much more interesting than the sun. Our little Payton, almost three now, is obsessed with the moon, which she alternately calls “moot” or “moon.” She will unexpectedly search for it in the light of day or on an evening ride. For weeks she cried out if–after finding the moon–it disappeared. She’s learned from us that it is probably because the moon is hidden behind a tree, and she’s expanded that so that whenever the moon is missing it must be behind a tree.
It is her mother’s fault, this obsession, or really her maternal grandmother’s, and likely generations before that, all those mothers of mothers who recited a little poem about the “wee baby moon.” Payton has been looking skyward for the moon ever since.
The moon is so much more interesting than the sun because it changes from sliver to wholeness, in the day sky, bright in the night. The sun is brilliant but inaccessible, burning your eyes, always intense and dominating. There’s nothing mysterious about the sun.
So look to the moon, our little girl, and see its many expressions and moods. And some day you will recite the moon’s poetry to your own little one and the generations will look back to you.