You step outside and, although midnight, the world is liquid. Nacreous. Everything has eyelashes, the fine hair, the fur, the exuded moisture, of plants, trees, surfaces, scintillates. Like silver fish diving in and out of a black ocean, the sycamore leaves surface and disappear through shadow. A full moon night. You’ve been feeling it all day, as if your skin was a little too tight, as if you might scratch an itch between your shoulder blades and find the painful eruption of two wet dragonfly wings.
Whether you track them or not, the year contains between 12 and 13 moon cycles. Around 12 times a year the oceans swell and recede, and your own body, 73% water, also responds tidally. As recently as 2,000 years ago, cultures were still oriented towards lunar cycles and cyclical time.