Hunter’s Moon
Blue Moon is the second full moon in a calendar month. Because this year there was a full moon on October 1 - Harvest Moon, occurring closest to the fall equinox - the second full moon on October 31 is known as the Blue Moon. It is a rare occurrence: Blue Moons typically occur once every two to three years (hence the saying “once in a Blue Moon”) and the Halloween Blue Moon is even rarer. The last time the whole world saw a Full Moon on Halloween was October 31, 1944. That must have been strange Halloween in the midst of World War II, but this year’s wasn't exactly normal either in the midst of coronavirus - with face masks, fewer decorations, and just a handful of kids. It felt very much unlike our usual festive spirit here in DC’s Capitol Hill, but the neighbors did their best to still celebrate and be safe.
What’s in a name? According to The Old Farmer’s Almanac, Hunter’s Moon occurs when the game is fattened up for winter. This is the time for hunting and storing provisions for the cold and lean months ahead. Hunting is a very alien concept to me, can’t imagine myself ever doing that. But it is undeniably part of our shared human heritage, maybe what actually made us human in the first place. The need to communicate and coordinate in groups during hunting likely led to the development of a uniquely human trait: language. I can see how it is a primal bonding experience. In that spirit, I recently read Hunter’s Moon by Philip Caputo. This novel in stories is set in Michigan’s stark, rugged, and beautiful Upper Peninsula or U.P. (adding it to my to-go list by the way once it’s safe to travel again), weaving a cast of recurring characters. Two most memorable for me are Will, a Vietnam veteran who owns a brew pub in a fictional U.P. town of Vieux Desert, and a writer and fellow Vietnam vet Phil, the author’s fictionalized self (Caputo is best known for A Rumor of War, the classic memoir of his years as a Marine in Vietnam).
The New York Times review calls the book “an unflinching reality check on the state of middle-age manhood” in America. In one of the stories Will says, “The woods are good for my head.” I can definitely relate to that, having been an avid practitioner of forest bathing or shinrin-yoku. The reviewer describes well what’s so special about being out in the woods, especially for men, “Michigan’s northern forests (and, in one story, northern Alaska) offer men the chance to rekindle friendships, heal old wounds and forge new memories together. Hunting trips like these are often the only place middle-aged guys feel safe to share their emotional lives — just so long as the heartfelt talks are the byproduct and not the point of the outing. Sharing, supporting and healing? No, ma’am, we’re just out here hunting.”
Understanding better the people who are different from me in many ways but we still share something deeply human underneath feels key ahead of the November 3 election - for men, women, middle-aged or not, hunters or forest bathers. There is still hope that we can come together, even if only once in a Blue Moon…