Full Moon

Last night, I went out to photograph the full moon.

Weird, I agree. Seems the whole village knows me for my weird, eccentric behaviour. Or at least I think so. That is, besides the ‘gayism’- UgandEnglish for being gay.

Full moon. In a cloudless sky.

It’s a pleasure, a beauty, something worth getting out of the house to watch.

I switched off the security light, sought a place that had the least electric light interference, the deepest shadow, and took my photos.

Oh, they will never be ready for prime time.

But it was a beautiful night. Cold, the crisp cold of the near wet season. Moonlight bathing the trees, deep wholesome shadows casting all around. Hiding the roaming dogs and cats. It was still, the crickets silent- it was past midnight. And I was out because Straka was doing her thing on television, and I like her weird wardrobe, but the music sometime palls.

Loverman loves Straka.

After some time lost with me fiddling with the camera, loverman came looking for me. Shocked to find the security light off. Amazed that I was still out, at that hour, when it was so cold. Had to come back into the house, soothe his frayed nerves.

But he had a point. Kampala these days is just not as safe as it was before.

Its Friday. Another week gone. Has been lovely, though I have spent a lot of angst on this blog of mine. A pressure valve, pressure safety valve. It helps to release some of it here, to sense myself centring.

Sometimes I feel wild and angry, and I want to cry. Doesn’t help that loverman also feels like so. I come to cyber and scream my lungs out! Er, it is possible, so I do it. Other times it is the slow, languous beauty of life I want to share. Eccentric me.

Left loverman in bed to come drink in the morning. Beautiful. Very beautiful.

The crisp cold of the morning chases away sleep. Invigorates. Makes the mind feel sharp. Makes a poem leap live in the mind, to be appreciated. I was reading Walt Whitman’s ‘Mating of Eagles’, if I can colorfully paraphrase. Vivid poetry; the awe enshrined in the brave brevity, the tightness of control, words that are alive with the dance of eagles.

Now, I will have to face the day.

Have a good day.

GayUganda