In the back garden he witnesses the miracle of the moon’s presence.
He absorbs the power that it radiates. He imagines he is naked; imagines that he can feel the moon rays entering his pores, through his skin, throughout his body, filling him with the ancient energy she had been endowing folk with throughout countless millennia. He stands perfectly still and with upturned head whispers his thanks to she who rules the night sky. By doing this he declares his love for her as so many others have. His arms raise slowly in an act of worship and submission. He is filled with wonder.
A sharp voice pierces the lunar silence. “Have you put the bins out?”
Sometimes, reality sucks.