This August Sturgeon Moon brought with it a powerful, deep partial lunar eclipse, obscuring 96% of the moon. I wasn’t able to witness the eclipse, but I have noticed what feels like the many effects of this extraordinary moon.
Last week, my neighbor’s yard suddenly displayed an impressive half-circle of toadstools. In my own garden, mushrooms appeared in abundance, some of the largest I have ever seen. One was nearly the circumference of a dinner plate. I noticed something else, my chickens stay away from them. They scratch and peck their way around the garden, but when they come to the toadstools, they seem to know to leave them alone. I find that strangely charming. Perhaps the chickens know something I don’t.
As someone who has always loved fairies and the magic found in gardens, I couldn’t resist wondering if the moon might have something to do with this sudden abundance. So I began to research.
I discovered that some scientists have observed mushrooms appearing more abundantly around the full moon. The co-founders of Gourmet Mushrooms have even adjusted the timing of their mushroom inoculations according to the lunar cycle. Other scientists, however, have found that it may not be the moon itself, but rather gravity, tides, moisture, temperature, and other earthly conditions that influence mushroom growth. There is no scientific consensus that the moon causes mushrooms to appear.
But I know what I saw. Almost overnight, mushrooms seemed to have sprung up throughout our neighborhood. There they were in lawns and gardens, unexpected and enormous, as though some unseen gardener had been working while we slept.
My chickens, apparently, were not going to interfere. Their reluctance to venture near the toadstools brought to mind the old poems and stories I have loved, especially Thomas Hood’s enchanting picture of elves dancing beneath the moon. I can almost imagine them here.
Perhaps when the garden is quiet and the chickens have settled for the night, the fairies come out. Perhaps the enormous toadstools are not simply mushrooms at all, but little tables and stools for an evening gathering beneath the Sturgeon Moon.
Maybe the scientists are right. Maybe the moon has nothing to do with it. But when the chickens deliberately walk around the toadstools, I find myself wondering if they know something the scientists haven’t discovered.
I think I’ll leave room for a little magic. After all, what is a garden without mystery and what is a full moon without the possibility that, while we sleep, the elves are dancing?
