Beneath the pale moonlight

I’ve been feeling nostalgic all day. Peculiar dreams overnight led me to a rabbit hole of music that consumed a large part of my time from the mid-70s onward, chiefly that of Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham —as a duo, as a part of Fleetwood Mac, and as solo artists. Nicks’ songs fit the season well, with their mystical, mythical, and witchy imagery, and while her tunes have always had a tendency to touch my soul, Buckingham’s music has always touched my heart.


I have a million things I need to be doing, but I’ve been under the weather and I decided to just blow today off, to listen to old music and make a little art.

Nothing spectacular, just the bit here to the left, but it felt good making it, and the music did what I needed it to do.

I feel the need for a cold night and a warm fire, of long conversations with lifelong friends. Unfortunately, they’re largely either gone or scattered, but that’s what dreams are for.

In my favor, I have a wife and son that fill me to the brim with pride and joy.

I’ve been down a bit. Being sickly will do that to you, especially if it’s for an extended period of time. My wife and son go a long way toward lifting my spirits.

Even at my lowest, I know that I am truly blessed. The gods smile on me, and I know they always have.

But this is the time of the harvest —Samhain to some, All Hallow’s to others. It is a time for remembrances. Of honoring the memories of those no longer with us, of communing with those who cross the veil.

I feel better already… Strong winds are bringing cooler weather and rain. True autumn is coming and there’s magic in the air.

Let’s see what tomorrow has in store for us. Shall we meet up with Johnny Scarecrow beneath the pale moonlight and cast our spells upon the ethereal current?

Oh, I think we shall…


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