Earlier today I sat down today ready to write about my experiences last night. The moon was beautiful, with intense energy, at least for me. As I struggle to capture the essence of the night and put it to words I can only look back and relish the journey I was given. My cup of coffee grows cold as I sit and stare at the screen. I’ve played with blog design, fantasizing about the day when I too, will have a website and be able to customize this blog to where I want it to be. I’ve listened to music something I often do when I write and I’ve attempted to tell someone about my night, but that too was lost.
Perhaps this experience is not meant for the blog page but for the quiet pages of a journal, a journey so personal it is meant for me alone. These do not come often, these journeys and you cannot plan for their arrival. Last night was powerful, a room filled with mystery deep in the trees.
Tonight I will dig out the journal and place the events of last night on the page of a journal so long neglected, the keeper of my thoughts and my walks in the moonlight.