|
A glowing full moon peaks through the clouds. The temperature plummets. I rummage through the coat closet in search of mittens, hats, and winter jackets. I pile my family into the car for the hour drive to Westcave Discovery Center near Austin. I have been looking forward to the December Full Moon Hike for months. I am writing about listening and seeing, about silence and darkness in karst, and I am curious about nocturnal sounds. I hope we are able to descend the steep and winding trail that leads to the canyon and the grotto and the cave, but I think the afternoon rain will make the stone steps too slippery.
1 Comment
I grew up in Northern Virginia, a place where winter was a time to await the snow. Things are different here in Texas: winter is a time to await the butterflies. The last week has been filled with unusually warm days and the plants are celebrating. Salvia, skeleton leaf goldeneye, and Copper Canyon daisies receive attention from clouds of insects, it seems. The garden sings. It amazes me every year. Just when I think I should be cutting things back and preparing for the winter, the yard springs to life. |
