Camp was made and everything was set for the full moon adventure to begin. How exciting, the stars had aligned and free days fell onto a full moon.
As daylight was fading, I retraced some of my steps back to a little shallow waterhole that was full of old, dead, and weathered tree trunks. Still standing were the remains of the past and I had no idea what had happened here. The surrounding area was lush with grasses, bushes, trees and flowers in bloom. A stark contrast, life an death and even here was beauty to be found. For a moment I thought it would look pretty spooky to photograph. I could already envision the moon lighting up the scene with the dead trees like skeletons casting shadows onto the water. Definitely a cool image, but I quickly dismissed the idea as it would have been difficult to make my way back to the tent in one piece. Uneven grounds and bogs would have been challenging to maneuver with just a little moonlight.
Back near camp, dusk had arrived and I plotted myself on a big rock near the waterfall. It wasn’t long until bats came out, cruising up and down the little stream, picking up bugs in midair. It was incredible to watch the speed and precision in flight, while flying low over my head or just making sharp turns right in front of my face. Immediately I was reminded about some childhood tale where I was told that bats like hair and sometimes get tangled up in your precious mane. Mmmh, it didn’t take but a moment to decide that it would be best to keep my hat on to minimize my exposure. I wonder, is that even true or just some tale and folklore? Has anybody heard of that?
Darkness had fallen and the mountains started to light up. A glow was on top of the ridge and the shadow line on the peaks was slowly lowering, exposing more and more rock. The moon must have been right behind the ridge and in about 30 minutes we would see it in all its glory. I began unpacking my drum and started drumming to the full moon (glow) while the bats were still cruising. 30 minutes had passed and the scene showed little change, surely the moon would be out shortly, definitely in 30 minutes. 🙄 I don’t know how often we said that the moon would appear in 30 minutes, but it never did. It was getting cold just sitting there, waiting for the moon to appear, and eventually we called it a night and retired to the tent. Only the tents mosquito netting was separating us from the outside wilderness and a world of wild animals.
Sometime later, much much later that night, I woke up and low and behold caught a glimpse of the full moon. It was traveling behind the mountain ridge the entire time, and it wouldn’t have mattered how many more 30 minutes had passed. Grandmother Moon would have kept us waiting all night. The whole experience paned out different then anticipated, and there was no walking around under the moonlight, drumming and seeing nature lit up. But at least I saw it in the end and with a smile fell back asleep.