The Cold Moon.

What do you think of when you see a Full Moon? Monday 21st January brings you the first full Moon of the year, known as The Cold Moon. At a time of year when the nights are long and dark, the light of a Full Moon can be magical, adding skin tingling expectation to the charcoal hours. It’s that in between light that almost reveals, but also hides the monsters of our imagination. What the eye can’t see… we like to think we are alone inside an ebony bubble, protected from the night’s nasties. But the Goddess of the Moon, Queen of the night, would like to sharpen your senses, play a few tricks and make your heart beat that little faster.

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Why not let Her? Our very own Moon gazed upon by every person that has ever lived, ignites a spark within our imaginations. The Man In The Moon, Howling Wolves, fact and fiction, myths, legends, there is so much to choose from. Any amount of knowledge will enhance your lunar experience.

During the early hours of Monday Morning, there will be a Lunar Eclipse, the only one of the year, so don’t miss it. Even if you only take a peek through the curtains, make a wish, then go back to bed, that’s enough, you will have at least satisfied your curiosity.

I shall be sat Outside on my bench, wrapped up warm, ready to observe this Celestial treaty.

I hope you get to see it and your wish comes true.

Tom’s Last Wish.

Tom, sobbing, and bloody-nosed, reached into the cardboard box and with frail trembling hands, he lifted the Gull. He cradled Turlok to his chest, rocking him as a mother would her baby.
“Shh, you’ll be ok little Pal.” Sniffed tom, as he gently stroked the gull’s crimson-stained feathers.

Meanwhile, back in outer space: “Sir! Lieutenant Turlok needs help, his alarm is beeping.” Reported 1st mate Zonger.
“Then get our best team down there and help him out.” Replied Commander Zorg, without turning from the communication screen. He had witnessed everything on the Gullcam.

“Tom – make your wish, I’ll put things right here.” Said LT Trillion, leader of the landing party.
After gently kissing the bird on its head, Tom placed it back in the box. As soon as he released his hold on the injured Turlok, the words flooded into his head. I wish to be in between. A second time, much louder, demanding, I wish to be in between.

Tom sat on the grassy bank of the stream, his legs bent bringing his knees up to his chest. The crystal clear water babbled an endless melody. From the leafy trees, warblers sang. High in the blue of Summer, a Raptor stooped, roller coasting for all to see. Tom threw a small twig upstream, then watched it bob past in front of him, it reminded him of a ship on a stormy sea. It disappeared, out of sight.
He looked at his hands; they were clean, youthful and strong. Tom was no longer 68, but 28. He realized someone was approaching from behind him. He turned his head, the bright Sunlight made him raise a hand to shield his eyes. It’s a girl, he told himself. He watched as she picked her way across the Summer filled meadow. Her frock disturbed Dandelion clocks and sent Bees buzzing as if annoyed by the disturbance. Beauty radiated from the young woman. It’s Ethel! He stood and quickly brushed his hands over his trousers, then beckoned her toward him. They greeted each other with a warm smile followed by a tender hug, then they sat, side by side on the grassy bank. Ethel linked an arm through Tom’s, then smiling, she tilted her head to rest it on his shoulder. Tom then tilted his head and gently rested it against Ethel’s. With each other’s scent filling their nostrils and the aquatic melody of the stream filling their ears they both closed their eyes.

“Right, that should do, for now, I want him checked every hour, call me as soon as there’s any change.” Said Doctor Larus, spinning to face the door, then swiftly exiting without a response.
“Do you think he’ll make it?” Asked a concerned voice. It was yuura, Turlok’s wife.
“He will.” Answered the duty medic confidently.

Tom Meets Tulok.

“Bye love, keep wrapped up, it’s still chilly in that wind.” Shouted Ethel after her Husband as he left the house.
“I will sweetheart, don’t you fret.” The late April sunshine made Tom squint, but, as his wife had said: it’s still chilly. So off he set towards their Nest Egg, at a brisk as possible pace.
The Ice-cream kiosk had been his idea, he’d sold the dream to Ethel no problem; we’ll make a fortune, rake it in we will, all I’ve got to do is sell ice cream to snotty nosed kids. His every word swam around inside his worried head: Like heck, we will, if this season doesn’t come up trumps we’re finished, good and proper. He thought.

The first two seasons had been flops, unkind weather and the out of the way location of the kiosk had seen to that. Rhyl was a tough place to make a living at the best of times.
This year WILL be better, I’ll make sure of that. Said Tom’s inner voice with conviction. With renewed vigor, Tom straightened up and picked up the pace, he kicked an empty Coke can that rattled along the pavement, just missing a scrawny Pigeon that searched for food scraps, causing it to hop into the gutter.
First Day of the bloody season and look at it, pathetic hole, even the Gulls look as if they’ve had their fill of the place. Still, it’s early yet, plenty of time for things to pick up.

Morning Tom.” Came the voice from across the street. It was Herbert who owned The Golden Goose souvenir shop, he had just finished putting out his pavement display of kiss me quick hats and shrimp nets. Tom assessed the traffic, picked his moment, and quick-stepped between two slowly moving cars. Safely across he approached the portly figure of Herbert.
“Hello, Herbert, ready for it?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be Tom. I say, did you see that bolt of lightning last night? Lit the entire seafront up it did, and the weird thing is, there was no storm.”
“Saw nothing of it mate, Ethel went to bed early, so I indulged in a few nips of the old Heathen Fire Water, that was me zonked until six this morning. Look, I’ve got to dash, those ice creams won’t sell themselves, more’s the pity.”
“Okey-doke Tom, I hope your day goes well, see you later.”
Herbert watched Tom until he lost sight of him, on the now busier promenade, before he himself disappeared into his shop.

The sea breeze helped thin the dark cloud of depression that hung over Tom’s head, the cry of Herring Gulls coupled with the smell of tourism, cheered him up. This would be the year that saved the bacon. He hummed a tune: zipperdy doo dah…

Earlier that morning while most people slept, a large spacecraft came into Earth’s orbit.
“I don’t care who you send, just get someone down there.” Thundered Commander Zorg of the imperial fleet.
“He’s on his way as we speak Sir, we’ve sent Lieutenant Tulok, he’s chosen to go disguised as a Seagull.” Reported 1st Mate Zonger.
In a bright, violent flash, they transported LT Tulok to earth.
“Right, hold a steady orbit until we hear it’s safe to go in. Keep us cloaked and on RED ALERT.” Ordered Commander Zorg.

Tom’s cinder block kiosk was now in sight, only another 100 yards away. It’s like a prison cell, thought Tom. Even if I charged Ten Quid for a lolly, I wouldn’t make enough to make ends meet. I wish I’d never laid eyes on it.

But this morning there was something different about the place, the hairs on his neck stood up, there was something on the floor in front of the shuttered serving hatch. My God… My God, it’s a Seagull. Tom hurried the last few yards then knelt beside the injured bird. “C’mon little pal, let’s get you inside.” Said Tom soothingly as he picked up the cold, limp body of Turlok. Once inside, Tom busied himself preparing a box for his unexpected guest.
“There there, you’ll be warm and safe in here.” Said, Tom, as he placed the Gull into a nest of fluffy tea towels. Continue reading “Tom Meets Tulok.”

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