The full moon is an interesting time in the lunar cycle. There’s something with the gravitational pull that makes crazy things happen. I don’t pay too much attention and don’t ask me to explain the theory exactly, but I do find it interesting. Having worked in a television newsroom, whenever we got bombarded with a big heap of crazy news at the same time, someone always hollered, “Is there a full moon or something?”
Often, there was.
Last week during the full moon –a blue moon – I woke up in the middle of the night and had trouble making it back to dreamland. I trudged downstairs and set up camp on the couch, snuggling under a blanket with my bleary-eyed dog cuddling close.
We spent an hour or two keeping up with the Kardashians on reality television and watched whatever else is on at 3 a.m. I was getting quite sleepy but it was almost time for my husband’s early morning alarm to go off and I didn’t want to wake him up a second early. I thought I would stall for a few minutes before going back upstairs.
I filled up a glass of water and peaked out the kitchen window. The full moon was captivating and seemed extra bright.
Finally I turned out the lights on the main floor and I tip toed up our steep staircase. That bright white moonlight flowed through a small window at the top of the flight – the combination of the light and the extreme silence created an eerily calm moment.
As I approached the top stair something in my peripheral vision caught my eye on the landing.
My mind raced as I began to piece together what was happening. I realized that next to me was a very tall figure in what appeared to be a flowing white gown – it stood close enough for me to reach out and touch it. I stopped breathing due to fear. The white figure seemed to float above the top of the landing and the brilliant illumination of the full moon made the figure easier to see.
I started to breathe again. Then I screamed. It was loud, sharp, and it likely woke at least one person in the neighborhood.
“What the crap are you doing?” I heard a voice ask, in a confused tone.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I realized it was my husband standing on the landing, in his white robe.
“What the crap am I doing?” I fired back. “What the crap are you doing – and who says that?!”
Terry was up for the morning and just waking up. I happened to accelerate that process with my shrill, involuntary vocal stylings.
“I’m sure someone in the neighborhood has called the police after that,” he said dryly.
Once I was able to process exactly what had taken place, I tried to slow my terrified racing heart and I started to laugh…hysterically.
I guess strange occurrences – including near ghost sightings – really do happen under a full moon.
Rolling on the floor laughing, here. Especially at, “What the crap are you doing – and who says that?!” Pure entertainment. :)