The Moon Smiled That Night

The last days of summer brings with it an air of disquiet, as any change in life often does. With the days slowly getting shorter and the gusty winds starting to accrue, it is tempting to stay indoors. And that was what I had intended to do on that afternoon in September after the chores have been done. 

But John had a different idea: the sky was clear and the sun was out that so why waste a perfectly good opportunity to enjoy the great outdoors, he reasoned.  

Last minute whims like these are somewhat made easier by the fact that we live in one of the greenest cities in Europe, surrounded by 2million trees which equate to four mature trees for every person living here. Within five minutes from our house is an open countryside called the Loxley Common, a beautiful patch of green in the fringe of Sheffield popular for bird-watchers, dog-walkers and students of geology.

So at six o’clock that day with still a few hours before sunset, we walked hand in hand along the path made by generations of walkers. The ground along the tracks is strewn by wild flowers that have grown to almost human proportions. We followed the path that led us along the slope of the hill where the heathers have fully bloomed into its beautiful shade of purple. At a lover’s seat we sat down to take on the beauty that nature so abundantly displays. Across the horizon, the top of the houses from the northern side of the city looked like pieces from a board game. But the urban flurry is lost in this piece of heaven where the only sounds you can hear the occasional barking of dogs and the random singing of birds.

We stayed there for a while and I uttered a silent prayer for the many little things that make our cup overflow and most of all, for the ability to see these blessings as they are thrown our way. 

We went straight to the local public house for dinner, a treat we seldom indulge in. It was already dark when we came out and the moon followed us to the car. I remembered reading about a lover who declared: 

"I will give you all the flowers of the mountain."

The author noted that poets in love seem to have very little notion of reality. But at that moment I knew exactly what the poet's muse would have felt , for my own beloved could just as well have said: 

"I will make the moon smile for you."

Because that night the moon did. And I smiled back.