bewize | LJ Idol 12: O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon

When I was a little girl, my mother told me that the moon was made of green cheese. I remember immediately going outside and lying on the grass, probably to my mother's dismay, to stare at the bright glowing orb in wonder.

How did they know it was made of green cheese?

What does green cheese taste like?

In my mind's eye, I could see thousands of little moon mice building little mice houses and living little mice lives. I wondered if there were people on the moon, looking up at the earth and wondering why anyone would choose to live on a place made of something as boring as rock and dirt.

I grew up, as children do, and I forgot about the moon mice and forgot that I had ever once thought that the moon was made of green cheese. I learned in school that the moon was made of rock, the same as the earth, and that it had probably formed a bazillion years ago when all the cosmic gunk was pulling together and a tiny piece of it broke away from the cosmic gunk that would form the earth itself. I learned about tides and eclipses, phases and facts.

I still occasionally stared up at the moon, but now it was to imagine space ships landing on it and Neil Armstrong bouncing around and making grand sweeping statements about "small steps for man and giant leaps for mankind." I wondered how much I would weigh if I were on the moon, how far I could throw a baseball, how fun it would be to moon walk. I wondered what made Shakespeare distrust the moon and have his most famous heroine chide it for being inconstant. And then I quit wondering about it all, except to be glad when there was a full moon on Halloween.

When I was barely in my twenties, living in a big city with skyscrapers, I would sometimes look at the moon when I was driving down the interstate, and watch it peep in and out of the spaces between the buildings.

I remember one night when I was doing that and suddenly my vision focused slightly differently. It was like one of those giant eye puzzles where if you look just the right way, things slide into focus. Instead of the moon, I saw a face smiling down at me.

I was twenty years old when I first met the Man in the Moon.

As stupid as it probably sounds, I was so delighted that I laughed aloud. My college roommate was in the car and I excitedly told her that I could see him, I could see the Man in the Moon. She probably thought I was crazy, but she indulged me and we went on our way. By the time we finally left the wonders of a frat party to go back to our dorm, I had almost forgotten him again.

We stopped on the quad of our campus, at probably close to three in the morning, and sat on one of the swings scattered around for hot sunny lazy days. We enjoyed the peace of a campus where everyone is asleep or busy doing quiet things. It must have been a nice night out, or we wouldn't have lingered, and in my memory, there was a breeze blowing through the oak and magnolia trees.

The moon shone down brightly and I again remember laughing, and for just a little while, I recaptured the innocence of my youth. The moon was made of green cheese. There was a man living in it and his face watched over us, tiny humans, living our tiny lives. Somehow, despite the fact that it should have been impossible, there was someone lying on the moon and looking back at me.

In that moment, life was as perfect as it would ever be.

I have heard people say that children shouldn't be taught nonsense. These people believe that it's best if everyone learns facts and numbers and statistics from the beginning. They want everyone to know that the world is a hard place to live and argue that stories that deny that reality do more harm than good to the human condition.

Personally, I think these people have the wrong idea. Stories don't need to be about impersonal truths and painful realities. There is plenty of time to learn how hard life is as we grow up. I think that the best stories, my favorite stories, inspire me to look beyond the grim and see the amazing.

So, it isn't true that the moon is made of green cheese. There are no mice, living little mice lives in little mice houses. But sometimes, even as I'm knocking on the door of thirty years old, when the sky is cloudless and the moon is bright, I stand outside and look up and laugh.

In my mind's eyes, the moon is made of green cheese.

And lo, there is a man there laughing back at me.

This picture is not the man in the moon. But it is a photograph taken by a friend of mine in Australia

st_aurafina, which shows the recent alignment of the stars (actually Mars and Venus), to give us an moon smilie! May wonders never cease.

This entry was written in response to the

therealljidol Challenge 12: Favorite Stories. There will be voting for this week's entries. I will make sure to link to the poll once it is put up and I would appreciate it if you would vote for me if you enjoy my entry. As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.

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shadowwolf13

I prefer the nonsense stories! :)

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LJ Idol 12: O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon

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