I missed the Strawberry Moon. Not because I forgot about it. On the contrary, I watched the sky throughout the day, took measure of the clouds, wished and willed them into clear blue. But it wasn’t meant to be. I sought consolation in the fact that there are many other wonders of this world for me remaining likely nevers. It did not help, because there are other once hoped likely nevers that I am not missing. A loved one’s illness. Bitter divorce. Seemingly monumental struggles with mental health. No, I missed the Strawberry Moon. A once in a lifetime, that held a lot of significance for me, I mourned, as I tried to fall asleep amid thunder and lightening. But it was still there, I promised myself. That Strawberry Moon. High above the dark and gray. Still shining over me.