The strange in between is here. We have arrived to the stormy half moon fulcrum that dangles us precariously between solar and lunar eclipse. Neither here nor there, travelling between past and future without anchor or orientation by design. This place is both portal and portent, shimmering like cut glass and razor sharp on its edges.

Musing on crucifixion and our unholy willingness to martyr ourselves on a cross that is often only ours to bear. Post eclipse mayhem seems to be hitting hard this cloudy day or have all the bunny chocolates and long weekenders gone straight to our heads?