Southend U3A

November 2023

Full Moon - Marie Day

Canis Minor and I were on our usual walk behind the cottages. As the clocks go back soon it’s already dark. This doesn’t stop Canis sniffing out his favourite smells from the grass verges and bushes. The moon is full so it’s quite easy to see the way along the path. I stared up at our beautiful, closest fellow traveller in space as I waited for Canis to investigate a particularly interesting odour behind a nearby hedge. The ‘man in the moon’ smiled down at me and I smiled back. A full moon is supposed to lead you to new beginnings, to be open to new beginnings and to trust your intuition.

Appropriately our amateur astronomer’s society has been asked by the local paper to write a monthly column to introduce their readers to ‘what goes on in the universe’ above our tiny planet. This month I’d been asked to write a piece about the moon; our only satellite we all take for granted but it has such an effect on all our lives.

As Canis and I walked home I was also thinking about when I’d experienced ‘moons’ of a different kind who had definitely affected my life for a few days last August. We went in by the back garden gate and through the patio doors into the cottage. As I locked up for the night I glanced back across the garden. I saw there was a light in the cottage next door.

‘That’s odd, the agent usually lets me know if the cottage is rented out.’

In my head I finished with ‘all except for one occasion.’ As I hung up Canis’ lead, I thought I heard a sound; a bit like ‘woofruff’. I shook my head. My imagination playing tricks. I switched off the lights and went to bed.

Early next morning I was up, as I had to get started on my ‘moon’ column. The deadline was October 28th to coincide with the clocks being set back an hour. After breakfast for Canis and myself I opened the patio doors to a lovely autumn morning. I set up my laptop on the table nearest the window in the hope the view of the sunlit garden would inspire me. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by a phone call. It was my friend Bryony. ‘How’s the column going?’ She sounded hesitant.

‘Why do you ask?’ I had caught the nervousness in her voice. ‘You don’t normally ask.’

‘I just had a call from the editor of the ‘Weekly Blather’ and she asked if one of her reporters could interview you alongside your column.’

‘That’s fine. Why do you sound so uncomfortable about it?’

‘Let me just ask what the words ‘fuchsia bush’ and ‘wet tea towel’ mean to you?’

August flashed into my mind just like the meteors I was watching at the time.

‘So, when is this reporter arriving? Just so I can hide the tea towels and keep him away from my bushes?’

A small voice admitted ‘He’s on his way now.’ ‘Sorry,’ she added.

Just as I ended the call the door knocker gave a loud rat-a-tat-tat. Canis Minor ran to the door as I walked down the hallway. I opened the door to a tall, thin, young man wearing a baggy suit, a trilby hat and an ingratiatingly toothy smile on his face. Canis then did something I’ve never heard or seen him do towards anyone or anything before. He bared his teeth and a rumbling growl exited his throat. I didn’t know until then dogs had such excellent intuition and good taste. The young man didn’t seem to notice his less than welcoming reception. I wasn’t exactly rolling out the red carpet myself.

‘Hello Pat. You don’t mind if I call you Pat, do you? (Didn’t wait for an answer.) My name is Johnno Lister and I am SO interested in your opinions on astronomy. (He emphasised the ‘so’)

And SO it went on until he got to the real reason for his apparent interest. I had by this time interrupted the flow long enough to sit him down.

‘With all your vast knowledge of the universe what is your opinion of extra-terrestrials? You know, little green men, aliens from a galaxy far, far away, E.T. phone home, take me to your leader kind of thing.’ he laughed in that ‘I’m terribly humorous don’t you just love me’ kind of way. Luckily, I had put Canis Minor in the dining room with ‘Paw Patrol’, it’s his favourite, on the T.V. just to keep his mind off chewing Johnno Lister’s trouser leg, otherwise I might have let him.

Also, luckily, I had seated this increasingly irritating, little man with his back to the garden because over his shoulder I could see a very familiar smiley face over the fence and this time, no mistake, a very recognizable ‘woofruff’. I swiftly brought the interview to a close and ushered, that is pushed, Johnno Lister out the front door, promising, with my fingers crossed, to be in touch when I had more time. Only when I heard his car zoom off down the lane did I breathe and then let Canis out of the dining room. We both shot out of the patio doors and over to the fuchsia bush.

The noise we made attracted the attention of our ‘new’ neighbours.

‘Greetings Patricia. Lovely to see you again,’ beamed Sirius Moon as he twiddled his ear. Canis bounded towards the fence and planted his great big feet on the top, ‘woofruffing’ to his hearts content. Sirius calmed him down with a gentle hand to his furry head.

‘I thought you were on your journey to, er, wherever you were going.’

‘Ah yes, dear old Andromeda developed another odd rattling noise. Luckily your moon was full so I could see clearly, we were close to er . . . the cottage we stayed in before. Landed, er, um, parked up here till I can get her going again.’

Canis Minor meanwhile was sitting in doggy wonder at these two new friends. His tail wagged so much I thought he would take off like a jump jet.

‘How is everyone?’ I asked looking toward the open cottage door.

‘Everyone’s fine, apart from Ariadne wanting me to buy a new ship the next time we are home,’ sighed Sirius.

‘Where is that?’ I asked innocently.

There was a sharp call from the cottage door. It was the ‘childers’, Luna and Phoebe. In unison they trilled, ‘Mum says breakfast is ready if you’ve finished fiddling with ‘the old heap’.’ They giggled, waved at me and ran inside.

‘Better go,’ he sighed again, ‘Perhaps this time you could come for refreshings before we leave. Meet Ariadne properly. Bring the little waggy tail with you, Canis would love a friend to play with.’ Then he and Canis ran off before I could warn him about Johnno Lister. They had to be told so I could find a way to put the nosy reporter off for good.

I got a call from Bryony that afternoon. Mr. Lister was hassling her for another interview. I asked her to put him off as much as she could. She was very willing to do that especially, I think, because he insisted on calling her Bry. She could tell how unwelcome a guest he was when I told her how Canis had reacted. If I thought it would be easy to keep him away from my friends across the fence, sadly I hadn’t bargained for the tenacity of the press pursuing a story.

For the next few days, I actually got to know the Moons. We had tea in the garden as the good weather held. Luna and Phoebe played ‘gurgleburp’ ball with Canis Major and Minor, thrilled I’d kept their present and that it was my dog’s favourite game. I even tried to help to repair Andromeda and the Moons began to trust me with their secrets. They were sent, they didn’t say by whom, to monitor meteor showers across space wherever they appear. I had been looking out for the Leonids shower, that appears around October above the Earth, myself. Landing usually wasn’t necessary but lately Andromeda had been ‘a bit cranky’ is how Sirius put it. Ariadne’s face told a different story. Sometimes they reverted to pretending to be earthbound in their work even though I now knew differently. I realised that they do this because they have to be so careful and protective of the childers. They couldn’t trust everyone they encountered. They were definitely edgy about our Mr. Lister when I told them. It turned out that Ariadne is the scientist responsible for the data. Sirius said, his usual modest self, that he’s the engineer and chauffeur. I said ‘Beam me up Scotty’ and they all looked blank. Sirius twiddled his ear again and the next time I visited I found them all glued to the television set – ‘very primitive device but fascinating’ – watching old episodes of ‘Star Trek’.

Canis Minor and I knew we would have to say goodbye soon and perhaps we had settled in too comfortably. Johnno Lister had not forced another meeting on me either. I had a false sense of security. I think on reflection I should have let Canis chew his trouser leg. One evening when the full moon still shone down on us, its cheery face smiling on his namesakes, I was at the fuchsia bush chatting to Sirius. Worryingly we still hadn’t found the parts to repair Andromeda. My phone began to ring. Suddenly Sirius’ gentle, happy face changed to a look of horror and without warning he disappeared from sight. I felt a presence behind me and it wasn’t the man in the moon!