blood moon

I woke up early to see the lunar eclipse this morning. I didn't know it was happening until a friend texted last night to invite me to watch through his telescope. There was almost a full quarter of moon illuminated when I left the house and nearly the entire surface was under shadow, which entered from the left, when I arrived about fifteen minutes later. Through the telescope we saw the moon, an airplane, Mars, and various stars around those.

I went back to sleep then went for a walk with the dogs. My hands were cold even in gloves earlier in the morning and by the time we got back from our walk the weather warmed up enough for a hammock rest. I moved around the bird feeders a week or two ago. I've been keeping millet in a smaller feeder closer to the tree where the sparrows congregate. They tend to battle over that and ignore the larger feeder full of sunflower seeds that I hung closer to the black walnut tree from which the other birds tend to descend. I saw a commercial recently that shows a couple with slow Internet turning to bird watching instead of streaming and tonight another that likens the lack of non-cellular Internet to wearing a bear trap. Now that the leaves have fallen I could watch a nuthatch hopping down the walnut, my fall sweeps. I spent the later part of the afternoon online at the library, which didn't feel like a trap, just different.

Tonight under the full moon I lit a pyre to offer seven mosquitoes to Huitzilopochtli, conceived when a ball of feathers landed on his mother Coatlicue. To recap, his sister Coyolxauhqui allegedly conspired with their hundred brothers to kill him in the womb. Huitzilopochtli sprung out fully formed and armed to spoil their plan, decapitating and dismembering Coyolxauhqui, who became identified with the moon, and dispersing his brothers, who became identified with the stars. Everyday Huitzilopochtli, depicted with hummingbird wings, rises to chase away the dark, strengthened in his rest by offerings of the blood of prisoners of war. The hummingbirds in the garden metabolize copious carbohydrates in their flight, consuming insects for protein. I've cultivated anise hyssop and trumpet vines that produce a strong nectar by their photosynthetic labor, now the ashes of the burnt offering will fertilize them to strengthen the hummingbird army after the long dark of winter for their return to battle with the mosquitoes in the spring. In the meantime I owe a donation to the Mexican Cultural Center, which I forgot to make while at the library.

In 1978 electrical workers unearthed a stone carving of Coyolxauhqui below Mexico City, which led to the discovery of the Templo Mayor and all of Tenochtitlan. I don't have my own picture of the stone but I did find a street sign in town depicting a decapitated slow, deaf child with a missing hand and severed legs drawn in the Mesoamerican perspective that looks remarkably similar.

The fall weather has been so similar to June weather that the strawberries have been fruiting again. Earlier this year I gave a runner to a friend who came over for the offering tonight with strawberries from the daughter plant, which we ate around the fire.

The fire died down then I walked over to the firehouse for trivia with neighbors. The theme was Rocky but the crowd voted to switch after two rounds so we restarted with general trivia, which we lost.