Winter Seed Catalog Moon
They’re out there on the Front Range, glowing, hot centers of significance framed by the snow capped 14’ers and all the other young bloods of this lifted earth. Grandchildren. There goes Gabe, moving quickly from train to train, watching for Thomas, looking for something maybe to pick up. That one, the golden one, that’s Ruth. She moves deliberately from sewing machine to science fair to art project, might stop by the kitchen to chop up some vegetables. Or, she might do a stand-up comedy routine.
There are, you know, those maps of the earth at night, lights blazing, cities spreading out like neurons and dendrites. That’s the way family and friends are. Bright lights in the nightscape of our lives. A bright light in Singapore. Another near the Rub Al-Kahli, the vast sandy empty quarter in Saudi Arabia. Even in the bright lights of New York there are two stronger ones. North Carolina. Indiana. Oklahoma. Texas. California. Georgia. Mihailesti, Romania. Northern England.
They are visible in the infrared spectrum of the heart. The heart gives us night vision to find those important to us, no matter where on the spinning globe they might be.