I’m watching the moon through the window above our bed. It’s a half moon with a hazy ring and the wispy clouds are slowly passing it by. I’m drawn to it, and although I feel the need to go back to sleep, I resign myself to my sudden awakening. ...Never knowing what pulls me from my sleep so abruptly, and so I search for reasoning amongst the sounds around me. The roosters are crowing, birds are beginning to tweet and the dog is randomly barking, the air is still and heavy, and I see car lights flicking by. The early morning rubbish truck slows and crashes our waste in with the rest. I get up to go to the toilet and wander through the house caching glimpses of the dim moonlight outside. I’m compelled to write in my head so I go back to bed. Unsettling things are bothering me, and I’ll have to untangle them to let them go. So I go through them in my head one by one and and release them to be resolved in due course. Well I try. It’s gone quite now. No rooster, no cars, no dog barking, no birds, no nothing, just the solid night coating us with it’s darkness. Alarms will be alerting us to the days beginning soon. Buses to catch, animals to feed, jobs to do, bills to pay, things to plan and life to be lived. I turn back over to look at my moon and she’s gone, a tiny star sits in her place. Everything keeps moving, the earth turns anyway, and nothing stands still for you. So we move along too.