twilight moon

THE  YEAR  I was born (1961), the song "Moon River" won the Academy Award for Best Original Song. It was Audrey Hepburn's theme song in her role as Holly Golightly in the the movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's" adapted from the Truman Capote novel of the same name. I remember singing that song out loud when I was a little boy. I knew the lyrics by heart. Johnny Mercer wrote them using word imagery inspired by his childhood in Savannah, Georgia, which resonated deeply with this Southern boy. I grew up in a house on a bluff across from the Coosa river in Alabama and dreamed of "crossing it in style, someday."

A  FITTING end to summer and beginning of the autumnal equinox this year was the Super Harvest Moon. Usually, the Harvest Moon is the closest full moon to beginning of the fall season, but this year it actually coincides with the changing of seasons, making it "Super." It was 1991 when this last happened. Here in the Northern Hemisphere, the sun set on the Western sky while the full moon rose opposite to it in the Eastern sky, creating a magical twilight that was illuminated by the sun and the moon at the same time, hence the name "Harvest Moon." It was named such because the farmers could harvest their crops by the light reflected by the moon from the sun. My photo below was taken after the moon had risen in the sky. I didn't make it to the park in time to see the gigantic, low-to- the-horizon Harvest Moon, which is due to a perceptual effect called the Moon illusion. Even so, as fall begins in the Northern Hemisphere, spring begins in the Southern Hemisphere.

HAVING  REDISCOVERED one of my all-time favorite tree decorations in storage a few weeks ago—a large hand-blown amber mercury glass moon face ornament—I photographed it in its singular beauty with a small branch from the large evergreen in the photo of the full moon below. I had never encountered this beautiful evergreen in a park I've been to on numerous occasions. Actually, I had a completely different blog post planned, but I felt this event had some sort of special significance.  

ACCORDING  TO my friend who is a psychic and astrologer, Cathy Burroughs, "this [lunar event] is an earth-shaking combination with the Sun and Saturn in Libra, Pluto and the North Node of Life Path in Capricorn, the South Node of past life gifts in security-minded Cancer, together with Full Moon in Aries with Uranus and Jupiter in Pisces is enough to tear us apart—hopefully to be reassembled in accordance with our higher evolutionary path." I don't know enough about astrology to make complete sense of all that, but it sounds like something quite out of the ordinary. According to Cathy, "it's a perilously, mercilessly rocky ridge around this bad boy."  

HERE'S  HOPING all this upheaval still signifies a fruitful harvest from the abundance the universe holds for all of us. And with the rarefied light reflected back gloriously by the full moon, this year's holiday magic begins!

MAN IN THE MOON | (Top) This beautifully evocative amber mercury glass ornament was hand blown and is quite large (about 5 1/2 inches in diameter). It was distributed by Department 56. I've had this ornament for well over a decade—it has always seemed to me to have such a serene personality and its face always reminds me of "my Huckleberry Finn" (Lowell, in the Polaroid picture at right, who lured me from my home state of Alabama to my life in Atlanta). Never failing to make me smile, we always hung this ornament on the trees we had together. Talking to him tonight at dinner, I came home afterward and photographed it. Lowell and I are still friends after a 6-year relationship back in the 90's. Being such a nester, I am still in Atlanta, but he—ever the adventurer—is now living in San Carlos, California with partner Frank.

TWILIGHT TREE | (Above) This evergreen tree frames the Super Harvest Moon after it has risen in the sky at twilight on September 22, 2010 at Freedom Park in Atlanta, Georgia.

©2010 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

photography, collecting and styling by Darryl Moland,
photo of Lowell by unknown photographer 

circles of life

THE  THREE  MATRIARCHS of my life were my mother Lois Virginia (Moland), my aunt Laura Ann (Sadler) and my aunt Wilma Elizabeth (Sherrill). Three sisters, three forces-of-nature, three strong-willed women. Three big-loving, free-thinking and infinitely-wise women. Three completions of the circle of life.

WITH  THE  PASSING of my Aunt Wilma last month, all three have now left this plane of existence. My mother led the way on July 10, 2005, my aunt Laura followed on February 16, 2007, and aunt Wilma on August 10, 2010. I'm sure wherever they are, they're still conducting their three-ring circus of life . . . the show must go on. They were sisters, but each led independent lives in concert with one another, from which our whole family learned and grew.

THIS  TREE  of life is dedicated to them. The tree is teeming with representatives of life. There's a tarnished glass glitter butterfly topping it all off: beaded flowers, pressed metal fish, leaves in skeleton form or wrapped around an orb, three dragonflies—distinctly different, a frog chasing a fly, and a snail ornament enliven this tree. Fitting as an ode to summer, the greens and yellows of the ornaments represent the warmness of the light that brings sustenance to all life (accented here by a wire surrounded sunface ornament). The three della Robbia-style wreath ornaments tied together with one ribbon represent the sisters and their connection to each other (as well as the riches gained by knowing them). The peculiar cadence brought to all that they encountered will live in every heartbeat, until we too complete the circle made from life, death and rebirth.

MY  MOTHER  left me with an unending sense of awe and wonder, that even finds a way to peek through in the lowest of moods. Somehow she is there, telling me yes (her last word to me), one more time. Yes, Darryl, it is worth it, yes, you will be OK, and yes! (leave me alone). I am a part of her, still living and breathing. I am carrying her wishes and dreams for me. Her memory is sometimes all that keeps me tracing circles in the sand, knowing full-well that the waves from the great womb of the ocean will rush ashore and erase them. So I will have to remember how they looked, how they were drawn and how they live after brushed from sight, much like a sand mandala is swept away after it is completed. It's the meditation that counts in bringing its energy into the world. And it is released once it is finished, holding no attachment to the material world, amplifying in its absence, life's transitory nature.

MY  AUNT  LAURA  helped bring me through a certain catharsis after my mother's death in a somber, but adventurous trip. She had come to visit my mother when she was in her last days and I encouraged her to stay so she could attend her funeral, after which I would drive her back to her home. A highlight of our trip back to Virginia (need I say more about the irony of that since my mother was named Virginia?) was a tour of the Biltmore House and Gardens in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Asheville, North Carolina. Once we arrived at Laura's farm in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains in Virginia, she showed me albums of old photographs, giving me a few of my mother and other family members. She told me stories relating her beliefs and gave me bits of her wisdom. She's the only person I've ever known that grew rhubarb in her garden, from which she made wonderful strawberry/rhubarb preserves every year. She was an avid gardener and loved to grow new things. She was a woman of the land.

MY  AUNT  WILMA  was a deeply religious woman. The man who gave her eulogy told those of us there, that above all, Wilma wasn't afraid to shine her light. He was talking in particular about the light of her Christianity, but I know it as her light—pure and simple, unencumbered by the judgment and rules of her faith—just as she was. She saw the inherent good in people and accepted them just as they are. She was faithful, and she knew that love is unconditional. She did not feel she had to manage anyone's life but her own and those who saw that, learned by her example. That's a big sacrifice for some in the realm of the devout these days, but it is one that warrants a respect I give to those that lead by quiet example. It's not the easiest path to take, but it is ultimately the most effective. Modern society could do well with more of an acceptance of the things that cannot be changed. The Serenity Prayer was in full effect for my aunt Wilma's life:  

God, grant me the serenity 

To accept the things I cannot change; 

Courage to change the things I can; 

And wisdom to know the difference.

WHILE  STOPPED  with a front-row seat at a train crossing on the way to aunt Wilma's funeral, I had a sudden urge to begin taking photos of the graffiti painted on the train cars passing in front of me. This Christmas tree popped up like a beacon (look to the car at the far right and click on the photo once or twice to enlarge). In the midst of subdued graffiti chaos, topped by a star, it was a clear symbol that the three of them were conspiring again and sending me a message to keep on doing what I'm doing. They brought a decorated tree to me in the most unexpected of places and in the most unexpected form. I had to smile. So it is . . . the beginning of a new season of challenge and reward in finding my passion for this blog and wherever it might lead me. The track has been set.

NEVER  TO  BE  predicted, these three matriarchs run circles around anyone else that has influenced my life. They showed me the importance of being true to yourself and believing in your place in the world. Just as I ordered actual old-fashioned wreaths of flowers for my mother and my aunt Laura for their funerals, and bought a new wreath for my Aunt Wilma a few years ago and put on her door for Christmas, the three wreaths combined on this tree represent their lives. Three sisters have shown me an unending circle of grace. And again, together, are sure to lay the track toward a future I won't be able to imagine. But as long as I have my eyes wide open, I'll be privy to what they want me to see, and know the direction to take.

TREE OF LIFE | (Above, top) This tree is teaming with life symbols from my collection of ornaments—from a butterfly to a frog chasing a fly. The della Robbia-style wreath ornaments, which I've connected by a single ribbon are from the 2008 Martha Stewart Collection at Macy's. Most of the varied, green and yellow ornaments are courtesy The Whitehurst Company. 

TWO SISTERS | (Above, right) This photo was taken of my mother and my Aunt Laura (probably in their early twenties) by an unknown photographer. I just recently discovered this photo through Laura's daughter Martha.

AUNT WILMA | (Above, left) Wilma stands stoic beside her husband holding their first born, Janice. I think her smile in this photo has the same timeless mystery as the much-dissected Mona Lisa smile. Nevertheless, she could look at you and smile back at you with pure love and understanding.

DESTINY TRAIN | (Above, bottom) I took this photo en route to my Aunt Wilma's funeral this past August. Imagine my surprise when I was photographing the different graffiti-covered train cars when a spray-painted tree appeared. Who knew I'd be presented with a Christmas tree in such an odd place? I take it as a definite sign from Virginia, Laura and Wilma that I'm on the right track with this decorated tree project, whatever form it may take and wherever it may lead.

SHINING LIGHT | (Above) This wire surrounded sun face ornament has been a part of my collection for many years. It amplifies the golden light from the large yellow ornament positioned behind it— courtesy of The Whitehurst Company.

SHADOW DWELLERS | (Above) The snail and frog ornaments are from the 2009 West Elm holiday ornament collection. West Elm has had a whimsical collection of nature-inspired ornaments in store during the holiday season for several years. The antiqued French cache pot made from wood is the perfect holder for this late summer tree.

ABUNDANT WREATH | (Above) A detail of one of the three della Robbia-style wreath ornaments, which are from the 2008 Martha Stewart Collection at Macy's.

BEADED DRAGONFLY| (Above) A delicately-detailed handmade  dragonfly was found at a shop in East Atlanta Village a number of years ago. It is made of beads both old and new.

BEADED FLOWER | (Above) A beaded flower ornament from my collection is made from wire-strung glass beads wrapped on a wire frame—a vibrant green homage to summer.

©2010 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

photography, collecting and styling by Darryl Moland;
antique photos of my mother and aunts are from the Weeks family collection, 
photographers unknown.