By The Light Of The Silvery Moon

The name of the full moon for August is "The Sturgeon Moon." It was called that by the fishing tribes of North America because that was the time of the year when the species appeared. It has also been called the Green Corn Moon, The Grain Moon, and The Red Moon because of the corn and grain getting ready to be harvested, and because of the reddish hue the moon takes on in the summer haze.

What is this fixation we have with the moon? For generations farmers have plotted their planting and harvesting by it's glow and phases. People have worshiped it, women have danced around it, and many star gazers follow its movement from new moon to full moon, then over and over again, month after month. The moon has many names depending on what month it is: Strawberry Moon, Rose Moon, Honey Moon, Thunder Moon, Buck Moon, and Hay Moon ... and, of course, now the Sturgeon Moon. Do you think we should warn the sturgeon?

All I know is that for all the years I grew up in New York City, it was pretty hard to be able to see the moon let alone follow it's phases. I used to beg to be able to go and visit my cousins out on Long Island where there were fewer lights (and fewer people), and you could lay out in the back yard and watch the evening sky. When I moved to the country, I became fixated with watching the moon's phases and travels across the night sky. After the years I spent reading up and learning about the Native Americans' relationship to the moon, I have taken to calling her Grandmother, and ask her every night as I lay down, and she shines through my window, to take care of me and mine while we sleep and bless the earth while it sleeps as well. She is a great comfort to me because I know that she does not shine only for me, but for all of creation. That gives me such a feeling of connection with the rest of the world. When Grandmother Moon shines down on us, she shines down on all of us. 

So on August 22 when the Sturgeon Full Moon rises in the sky, I will make sure to thank her for protecting me and mine, thank her for guiding the farmers as they harvest the food I will eat, and hope that the sturgeon get away  (what else would a vegan say, I ask you?). 

And so it is.