Pink Moon

Rosey-posey, dappled pink moon, full as a court duchess at a pastry table, hanging low in the western sky; it was a startling vision, the full moon just setting as the sun arose.  The dawn was roseate, blushing at the morning sight of couples rousing, tossing off covers, readying for the day---Madame Luna caught the sun's flushed bewilderment and laughed, for what did you expect in the early residue of night?  It is her belief, you see, that the day hides more than in the night, when faces are unmasked, when quieter desires become apparent.  During the day, we wear suits and bindings.  After sundown, well.

This gorgeous sight of lunar pink showed the moon's markings as striations and stipples, and I wished I wasn't driving, for seeing this great airship would have occupied a morning's time.  Fingers of clouds stretched from the east, reaching in peach and rose colors for the zenith of the sky, where other billowing legions clustered, holding the contents of a coming storm.  It wasn't a bad drive; when I turned north and the moon was hidden by city buildings, I forgot the descent of the pink empress and concentrated on snagging a reasonable parking spot on the street.

In class, we talked of reading, writing, and 'rithmetic until an announcement came over the p.a. that all after-school activities were canceled due to the impending weather.  Impending?  Let's look.  Nothing but dark, low clouds slowly advancing towards the school from the lake, it could get here, it couldn't, do they have a premonition that we are missing?  On the Promethean board, I pulled up a local weather station--the kids were amazed at the satellite photos showing the advance of the snowstorm--and then wham!  The outside windows were assaulted by a blast of pure happiness, for the kids yelped and ran to the window to see.  SNOW!  It's snowing!  The houses across the street were temporarily invisible, and only the red glow of rear lights could tell you where a car was.  Alright, skedaddle back to your seats, this needs a plan.

Get math done up while I call a few parents to tell them that their child is coming home right away, then, we are getting ready early.  I want everyone bundled, wrapped, with a hat, gloves, and no complaining about zippers on coats.  If it gets too bad out, we may be staying here overnight, so I can teach you at two o'clock in the morning.  Yay, said the kids.  Not the reaction I was expecting, but the idea of raiding the cafeteria for dinner was a dreamed-of adventure.  There's pizza down there.

Teachers were scooted out as the building was closing at 3, and just as well; the number of car accidents was phenomenal in the two mile stretch I needed to travel.  One side of the street was locked with cars; blue and red lights flashed from police vehicles, it was like driving over applesauce on ice; everywhere everywhere everywhere, the streets were jammed as all employees were trying to leave the city at once, with major routes snaffled, and the Skyway closed.  A nine- minute drive took me a half hour, with diversions through neighborhoods I've never seen.  But Rudy, my car, and I got home.  Rudolph Valentino.  No, I don't know why, it just happened.    

This is the vacuum created by a snowstorm: no sound, all the traffic that runs by year round is muffled or simply not there.  It's a rare quiet in the apartment, interrupted only by the thunder of metal behemoths eagerly pushing the snow into mannerly furrows.   A few lights on downtown buildings are showing, but the grey-orange sky flurries still are blanketing the cars in the lot, turning them into squarish marshmallows, at least in my view from the ninth floor.  If the moon is still full, no one could tell.  But, you know, if you put a spoon under your pillow at night, it's guaranteed to present you grandly with a snow day.  Retired teachers are not allowed to clap gleefully.  No clapping.  Stop that.


Wowsers! Lightning just crackled, followed by thunder; thundersnow happens in a lake effect storm and the city lights have disappeared again, so maybe I won't even need a spoon.    


I and the cats are warm, the millepedes are warm, the snails are warm; I imagine any sneaky spiders are warm.  Do you know if you are loved?  I do, and am.  A student came in with her mother at 11:10 today; her stomach had been hurting earlier, but now that she was feeling better, she asked her mother to bring her to school.  The class is a safe haven, she hugged me when she saw me.  That, ladies and gents, is my job, my main purpose, for if you are scared, how the heck can you learn anything when you are on tenterhooks and six years old?  The student twirled around me, a small moon orbiting a planetary teacher.

Good night, good night, good people.  And you are good; and it is so.  See past the masks of daytime, and contemplate the freedom offered by setting suns and rising moons, by lightning in snowstorms, by words and wishes.  The world hurts less with your magnificent spirit.  Sleep, dog; sleep cat; sleep child. I will watch over.