The Witching Hour

As a kid I never took much notice of the moon. It was in the sky at night and when I drew it in a picture it was always crescent shaped. When it could be seen during the day it caused great schoolyard debate amongst my class mates because being niave children the moon was meant for night and the sun for the day. It never occurred to me how much light a full moon could provide either till one night I woke up screaming because there was an "unexplainable" glow on my wall. I became tangled in my sheets and fell in an attempt to get away from the mysterious light. Mum rushed to my room upon hearing my screams but by the time she got to me I had realised what a mistake I had made.
By the time I was 16 the moon was something I began paying reasonable attention too. It would affect my sleeping patterns. On a full moon I couldn't sleep and so I could be then found pulling on my boots and walking off towards the paddock. I had my horse, Shandy, and eight Murray Grey cross Holstien heifers on agistment. I used to visit them on my full moon walks. Shandy was willing for a pat and the cattle never spooked. They were oddly serene with the moon bright in the night sky. We had a major road that passed the bottom of the property and I would play an odd game that I created with the passing traffic. I would walk along the fenceline and when the cars high beams shone on me I would drop in the grass. I don't think I was ever noticed because there were no reports of "ghosts" in the weekly local paper. But I certainly did hope to spook the late night road users to some degree into thinking that they were seeing things.
With the date of Easter being the first Sunday after the full moon, I was naturally wide awake last night. I lay in bed annoying Damian... as you do when you can't sleep. For the last few nights I've had no issue with walking, minus a torch, over to the shed to turn off the generator. The moon doing a good job of lighting the way. Normally I would take a vehicle to shine the headlights into the shed. Walking over in the dark causes me to scare myself silly with the thoughts of what could be lurking in the shadows. On my way back I watch the three resident bats play and swoop and chase each other around the roof of the house. And all this celestial activity got me thinking that once upon a time I would have been burned at the stake for even paying the slightest attention to the moon or being out and about in its light.
Back in the day when the witch-hunts were in full swing it was estimated that 40,000 to 100,000 women were executed by varying means for being found to be a witch. All it took was for something misfortunate to happen (the fail of a crop, the death or illness of an individual or farm animal) and it was always easier to blame a "witchy woman" than find a reasonable explaination. Or it was even as simple as a woman being disliked amongst her fellow village folk.
Witches are said to meet at midnight or "Witching Hour" (between midnight and 3am) when all the most evil of creatures emerge in the night. The only creatures about on this night were the wallabies, the curlews with their creepy calls and the bats, an animal which over time has been branded with a stigma and strongly associated with vampires and witches.
But it is also speculated that the moon and women are linked by cyclic events if you catch my drift. In her book "Witches, sirens and soothsayers" Susannah Marriott suggests that because of this cyclic rhythm that women and the moon share, all women have the potential to be a witch.
The closest thing I ever came to witchcraft and being a "witch" was when the movie "The Craft" came out in 1996 which had a cult following amongst teenage girls (light as a feather, stiff as a board, blah, blah, blah) and the ownership of a pentagram throw-sheet that was gifted to me when Damian and I got engaged.
In this day and age I'm glad we don't live in the dark ages. I still do feel that women are the down-trodden gender but I am glad I can look at the moon without persecution and accusations. Because of course, what would my midnight jaunts be if I could not look up at the full moon?


"Queen of the Night" by Henri Fantin-Latour

http://en.wikipedia.org
Witches, sirens and soothsayers; Susannah Marriott; Spruce, 2008.