I can hear a whisper, deep beneath the clatter and smash of the overworld. Finally far enough away to be struck in the middle of the quiet forest, in the still of the bright moon, in the shadows and grief that now walk boldly as stewards of evolution.

There's quite a full moon on the rise already and we're feeling a familiar ratchet. This usually lovely Libran peak is the first in what feels like forever that has not been an eclipse. Though we are still in the ebbing tide of that mad season, this full moon will rise from beyond it to deliver punchlines and spotlights on all that has been quaked and shifted.