What is the moon? The solid reflective crystal hovering around our gurgling home? It's light shifts, its body synced up perfectly to spin with us, always showing the same face. More personal than the sun, closest of astral bodies. Concerning belonging, home, daily acts, and nurturing, do you think the moon is indifferent? Hardly. Harshly, her cycling through light and darkness in her dance with the sturdy sun. She is the storyteller that gives you your story, typing away in the back of your mind, or perhaps singing it softly. Instinctually reacting to the space and the beings that charge it will life and forces, she can captain you without even a boat. Her tension with the sun is where the real living is. Alone, she is a fearful master, alone the sun cannot understand the ephemeral nature of the earthly plane, the sun knows nothing of the necessity of death. Together, they keep time.