Half a moon guided me home across the moor this evening and made me wonder at how much my life resembled the celestial body that hung like a pendent in the dark sky.
My father often used to say I was half tidy, meaning that with a bit more polishing, I would come up to scratch! But I have never polished up beyond the half tidy look, and I prefer it that way.
‘You do things half heartedly,’ my father said, and he was quite right, sometimes! By the way, the things he referred to at the time, were homework and experiments. The type of things my father took pride in.
Driving across the moor, I began to wonder about the books I started but never finished and the films I began to watch (and really liked them) but fell asleep before the end. The conversations I only half listened to but wish I had taken more interest in. Especially when they asked my opinion at the end!
How many songs do I know all the words to? Hardly any! I love to sing, but I usually get half way through then have to hum the rest.
Is it too late to change? Was the moon trying to tell me something? Perhaps I should listen to the whole conversation and finish all the stories I have left half way through!
But I can say this, my cup if almost always, half full. That must count for something! So for now, I will eat the other half of the apple I just put aside and think about the other half of my life. The half I have been neglecting.
Thank you moon! And may I apologise for calling you half moon when in actual fact we see you in a quarter moon phase. But we earthlings, so prefer to call you half a moon, it is so enduring!