As the new moon, it had yet to show itself, and the significance of its reappearance after the waning of its previous self, after its dark cycle, was not lost on me. And search as I might, standing in the brisk 20 degree weather, with my camera battery itself waning and my fingers numbing,
scanning the horizon
I saw nothing. Oh, I saw plenty. I saw the open sky, the amber hills, the dried remains of last year's growth. I heard the approaching honks and calls of the geese as they flew up from the south that morning, their elusive rustling of wings covered by their loud conversations and calls.
All day I searched the sky.
Feeding horses, checking the water troughs, walking the dogs ... every time I walked outside, I looked.
I was filled with a skittering energy, that of needing to get work done, connect with something, be somewhere, and it was unsettling as the day wore one.
I kept looking up.
And still nothing.
Unique, a leopard appaloosa, was the first horse to be drawn for this project. Coincidentally enough, she lives right down the road from me, roughly three-quarters of a mile. The beginning of January was fairly mild, and so the day lent itself to a stroll down the gravel lane to her pasture. Fishbone clouds had built throughout the day, diminishing my hopes of catching sight of this sliver of light.
Overhead, the geese reversed their routes from the morning, heading back south, a highway in the sky. They flew in a perfect "V" formation with the lateral light reflecting from their wings and necks. They moved without talking, without all of the chaos that can accompany them. Instead, as they slipped overhead, I heard only that rustling of wings and quiet whisper of the air rushing over their feathered selves.
As is often the case with horses, especially well-cared for and loved ones, Unique and her pasture mate were curious as to what I was doing. They came right up to me, and they were plenty content to check me out and receive some scratches. Photographing horses is pretty fun. Their bodies offer up some interesting perspectives, and their personalities, well....
All of the anxiousness and planning and assumptions of the day left, and in their place were my steady footfalls and cold hands.
I looked up.