The moon, a silver crescent in the sky, beckons me onto the deck. I cannot ignore her call. As I open the door, I step into the silky darkness and the cold air is sharp in my nostrils. My feet are freezing against the frosty slats of wood but I grip my cup of coffee tighter to keep some warmth in my hands.

I can see the moon through the skeletal branches of the trees. I look up, taking in the sight of her exquisite silvery shape. This early in the morning, the neighborhood is silent. The birds have not yet begun to chirp their morning tunes. There is not a single sound of movement in the woods behind the house. I smile, incredibly grateful to savor this moment of such stillness. It is so rare for it to be this quiet where I am. I take a deep breath of chilly air, letting it fill my lungs, as the peacefulness envelops me.

I open my arms and absorb the moon’s shimmery beauty, allowing it to wash over me, as I stop to think about the generations of women before me. We are connected across space and time and I feel it in this moment. Under a beautiful moon. I think of the strong women in my life and send them love, knowing intuitively they will feel my offering.

I retreat back into the house when my feet start to feel like blocks of ice, and daylight is beginning to creep in. I utter a silent prayer of thanks for this sacred time and for all the blessings in my life.

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