The Fields Of Royal Cress Are Okay But When It's Pollen Mixes With That Of Things Like Ghost Mother Willow...

It’s Not a Phase – We Love the Moon

International Observe the Moon Night is Oct. 21 and everyone's invited! Find a Moon-gazing party near you, learn about lunar science and exploration, and honor cultural connections to the moon.

This year, we want to know what the Moon looks like around you. Take a look at these photography tips, then snap a picture of the Moon and tag us! You may be featured on Tumblr’s Today page on Oct. 21.

Taking one look at him, something dawned on me. He was like me, looked like me in a sense. He had the dark, bark-like pattern that I have.

Only his was in a different shape.

“I thought the goddess of love would look…different.” The wrinkled old woman waved a dismissive hand, leaned closer, and smiled. “You are thinking of my daughter, the goddess of passion and romance. Dearie, I am the goddess of LOVE.”

The Northern Vulpes is always the first constellation to appear in the autumn sky. I loved how the kids would create stories for each other about how mischievous or clever or generous it was to the other constellations.

During one of the celestial festivals, the moon released some animals that looked like the Northern Vulpes. They had illuminated pelts that even shone in the day.

Coyotes had warm colors while the wolves, who were much larger like real wolves, had cooler tones.

The children loved them. Some preferred the coyotes while others preferred the wolves.

Over the years, some of those beings just… ran away. This was a couple hundred years ago, though. There have been sightings of some but the beings always run off before anything can be done.

Mostly, though, they don't bother us and we don't bother them.

The highwayman looked at me steadily.

"Honesty doesn't mean stupidity," he simply stated.

The constant clatter of swords and the elegant movement always calmed me. The twirl here and a parry there.

The extra weight of the graceful blade felt like it was natural.

But life can't always be this way can it? Somehow, either you or someone else gets hurt. I guess you can only choose your actions and words carefully to minimize the damage.

Where I'm from, myths have a habit of being true. One such myth is that the moon can grant wishes. People typically make wishes on one particular day but every once in a while, someone makes a wish on a different day.

For that one day, though, it is almost all children who make those wishes. Occasionally, an adult will drum up enough courage to leave a wish for the moon to grant.

The moon does what she can to grant the wishes but she'll only grant the wishes that are pure at heart and for the betterment of the person who wished.

"Is there anyway I can help?" I asked the ever patient moon on one particular night.

"If you have nothing to do, you could stay with me," came her soft whisper. "I like your company."

I chuckled as I sat down beside the alter. "Any interesting wishes?"

"They are all interesting and unique," she answered.

I furrowed my brows. "Don't most of the kids just ask for toys, though?"

"Yes, but those toys help the become someone unique."

Resting my head against the cool stone, I requested of the moon, "Could you explain how?"

Images of a wooden sword flashed across my mind as she answered, "The boy who will get this could become one of your greatest generals." Next, a combination of random metal parts and wooden puzzle pieces appeared in my head. "The one who receives this could be a mechanic that will invent revolutionary equipment." She went on for a few more moments after that.

I couldn't stop the smile or the tears. How could I have been so blind? "That was wonderful. Thank you for explaining that to me."

"It was a pleasure. But promise me one thing."

Even though she wasn't there, I looked up. "Anything."

"Promise me you won't underestimate the value of a gift. Even if it seems insignificant and useless to you, that could be the thing that sets the recipient on the right path for their life."

"I promise."

The flowers proudly displayed their colors. From the delicate daisy to the graceful Sakura.

I reached up to a flowering apple tree and with tender love murmured, "Absolutely beautiful, darling."

Tomorrow, I knew the apple tree would give more blossoms. After all, what living thing doesn't want to be praised?

We were at the base of a stone tree made by men. The tree had stiff branches all the way at the top. But what held the attention of the man beside me was a stone in the tree. There were markings but I couldn't understand them.

"What do they say?" I asked before I reached out.

He took my hand as gentle as he could.

"It says, 'Bitter are the wars between brothers.' It is a proverb from ages past."

"But why is it here?" There was an unspeakable pain in his eyes. Why was he hurt? Was it because of the proverb?

"The king put this here as a reminder of what happened, I imagine," he answered, leading me away after taking one last good look at the stone.

Happy Fourth of July, everyone! :D