The Moon is Following Us

We were on the coastal highway, driving slowly despite the lack of traffic on the road and I was sitting in the back, behind the driver. The cool night air blew through the open windows so that it messed up everyone’s hair. The conversation between everyone else got drowned out by nothing, but I was no longer paying attention to what was being said.

The moon was full and bright that night, and soon enough I couldn’t even tell if the people in the car were still talking or not. I was mesmerized, by the moon, steady and still in the sky, while everything else on the ground whizzed past us.

In an instant I was brought back to my dad’s beige Toyota station wagon and my family on our many car rides after dinner. I was sat behind daddy, with the windows down so that the cool night air messed everyone’s hair up.

‘The moon is following us!’ My daddy would say to us, when we were on the same road a long time ago. I was 6, then 8 then 10 and 12, and we, my dad and my mum and my sisters and I would take turns telling each other that the moon was following us. And we’d look at it for almost the entire trip, wherever we were going, looking to see if it really was.

It was only when we went through roads with tall buildings or tall trees or through the hills that we couldn’t see it, but daddy said it was just hiding. And sure enough the moon would reappear, reassuringly following us.

Casual as this memory may be, I had to blink and tune in to the conversation in the car before the tears could come.

I miss my dad.

The Moon is Following Us


Joined November 2009

  • Artist

Artist's Description

How a drive in the night triggered a memory I didn’t know I treasured.

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