Snow moon

I awoke before dawn this morning, Sunday, February 1, 2026, to moonlight on the wood floor of my upstairs hallway.

Drawn to view what caused the light, I threw back my covers and waded through a pool of light, produced by the moon phase named “Snow Moon”.

In a few steps I stood before the west window of my guest bedroom.

There, moonlight shone through the window and upon the rolling, snow-covered landscape, casting shadows of whatever poked its head above ground.

Amused and amazed, moonglow bathed my face in its glorious reflection upon snowfall.

I have lived in this house thirty-eight years and just this morning before dawn first witnessed February’s Snow Moon.

Comfort enfolded me. Bits of a poem I’d read at bedtime came to mind.

“While, steadfast as the stars on high,

God’s peace abides forever.”

I couldn’t recall the entire poem, or remember its title, and returned to my bedroom.

There, I took in my hand Effie Waller Smith’s little red book of fifty-two poems titled “Rosemary and Pansies”, found the folded page numbered 26, titled “Forever”.

“We sigh for human love, from which
A whim or chance shall sever,
And leave unsought the love of God
Though God’s love lasts forever.
We seek earth’s peace in things that pass
Like foam upon the river,
While steadfast as the stars on high,
God’s peace abides forever.
Man’s help, for which we yearn, gives way,
As trees in storm-winds quiver,
But, mightier than all human need,
God’s help remains forever,
Turn onto Thee our wavering hearts,
O Thou who failest never;
Give us Thy love, and Thy great peace
And be our help forever.

Although cloudy weather did not permit me to view the Snow Moon at its peak at 5:09 p.m. today (per the Old Farmer’s Almanac), I am no less favored by the glow of the first Snow Moon I’ve witnessed.

For, of all steadfast stars on high, this stellar experience rivals those I’ve witnessed on this hill the past thirty-eight years.

Come early spring, I’ll watch for the lunar eclipse.

And to observe a quirky astronomical happening, I’ll set my eyes upward March 2-3 to witness the Worm Moon.

So named by Native Americans who observed trails in the earth after the emergence of earthworms.

Dear Reader, from the Snow Moon’s wakeup call this morning, to driving to church, then my daughter’s house for her delicious brunch and back home, then learning about the Snow and Worm Moons, Cat Stevens’ song, Moon Shadow, played as background music.

How appropriate. Cat Stephens released the song in 1970, the year my late husband and I married.

Indeed, God’s love, peace, and help abide forever.

Thank you, Effie Smith, for writing your remarkable poem.

Contact Iris at irisfarmletters@gmail.com