Under the Harvest Moon

Tonight, the Harvest Moon will rise over Shem Creek — full, golden, and impossibly close. The kind of moon that doesn’t just light up the sky; it stirs something in the heart. Its reflection will ripple across the water, mingling with the silhouettes of the boats and the quiet hum of evening. The air smelling faintly of salt and new beginnings.

There’s a calmness to nights like this — when the world slows just enough for you to feel the shift inside yourself. The Harvest Moon has always been a symbol of fullness and release — a reminder that endings and beginnings often share the same horizon.

As I stand there, watching that great glowing sphere rise higher, I know I will feel an unspoken gratitude for how far I’ve come — for the heartbreak that taught me grace, the love that taught me courage, and the strength it took to let go of what no longer served me. There’s beauty in moving on, not because it’s easy, but because it means you’ve chosen peace over pain, growth over fear, and possibility over what-ifs.

Soon, I’ll pack my bags again — another adventure waiting, another chapter calling. There’s something romantic about that, too… the idea that we can start fresh at any moment. The same moon that shines over Shem Creek tonight will hang above new skies, whispering reminders that home isn’t always a place — sometimes it’s a feeling you carry within yourself.

So, here’s to the season of release. To the soft thrill of the unknown. To looking up at the Harvest Moon and knowing — with quiet certainty — that everything ahead is going to be just as it should.

Honey Note:

The moon tonight isn’t asking you to rush toward anything. It’s only asking you to look up — to trust the tides, the timing, and your own becoming. ✨

With love as my compass,

— Honey