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Name That Moon!
Monday, 26 October 2009 12:37 pmSo earlier in the month, I heard a newscaster ask as a trivia question, "What is the full moon of October called?"
And that's a stupid question, Dave Murray, but I'll let you off the hook because it's such a commonly asked question.
First, by whom? And don't say "the Indians," because there were approximately umptymillion Native tribes in the Americas before Columbus landed, and at no point did they suddenly merge into one cohesive monocultural, monolinguistic, monoreligious unit that has a monopoly on the full moon.
Second, you know "October" and its fellow months are all based in a solar calendar that doesn't fit or have anything to do with the moon's meanderings, right? That is to say, there are 13 full moons in a calendar year. When assorted cultures have applied names to full moons, they didn't do it based on where that moon fell within a Roman-based solar calendar system, but as a separate calendar system in and of itself.
I'll simplify that: the full moon of October is the October moon. If you want to get fancy, you can call it the Moon of the 11th Month, or even the Moon of the Technically Incorrect 8th Month. Sometimes there are two of 'em. Deal.
The full moon that falls closest to the autumn equinox, according to my happy little research fest, is commonly known as the Harvest Moon and usually falls in September, though sometimes October gets lucky. There's some speculation that, because of tilts and ellipticals and whatnot, the moon around this time may rise a little later, burn a little brighter and look a little bigger (or it may not; they're still arguing, and I have a short attention span), and thus people could work a little bit longer in the fields, hence the name "Harvest Moon."
Unfortunately, that's bullpucky repeated by people who've never tried to wield sharp farm tools in the dark. Cultures that name moons usually name them based on what's going on around that time of year. Harvest time = Harvest Moon. Buried under blizzards and watching your rations run low = Hungry Moon. Sure, it's less poetic than "The Moon of Softly Falling Dreams," but you don't have to explain to the neighbors if that was before or after the food ran out.
If you lived in an area with a good growing season, you might have a Little Harvest Moon and a Big Harvest Moon. If you had other priorities, your Harvest Moon might instead have been a Black Butterfly Moon. (And no wonder--the little buggers were everywhere in September!) If you lived further north, your Harvest Moon might have popped up in July, with September playing host to the Tired Of Beans Moon. Far enough north, and maybe you don't have a Harvest Moon at all, but rather a Moon In Which We Briefly Have Greenery, briefly tucked between the Moon In Which We Hunt Seals and the Moon In Which We Also Hunt Seals.
(Any Inuit out there want to tell us what Tugluvik actually means?)
Anyhow, in common usage, which for America means "related to medieval Europe but attributed to the Native Americans because we're white like that," the full moon following the Harvest Moon is commonly called the Blood Moon or the Hunter's Moon. No more harvest, thanks to the frost, so it was time to stock the larders by killing off anything you didn't want to feed over the winter (sorry, Grandma!) and heading out into the king's forest for a littlepoaching tasty animal liberation. That this moon happens to often fall in October is just a fun perk, unless, like me, you are bitter that October gets to hang onto the Creepy Month badge despite Halloween just barely happening in it. Hmph.
Other names for this moon, depending on who you ask and how much you trust their sources (i.e. Running Steve's Site of Frequently Emailed Indian Facts! = probably not so much) are the Changing Leaves Moon, the Falling Leaves Moon and the Wilted Moon, depending on the state of your vegetation, and the Migrating Moon, except to the local geese who keep flying north to snack at the park.
Attributed to various Native tribes are also the names Longhair Moon and Shedding Moon, so your 'do is covered either way, though Movember approaches, gentlemen, so don't get comfy!
It's also the Raven Moon, though I was dubious about the authenticity of that one until the crows descended en masse at the local cemetery the day before the last full moon. Nice timing, guys. Very Halloween!
The next full moon will pop up on November 2nd, also known as All Souls' Day. It follows All Saints' Day, and the two are often conflated into the Day of the Dead, which is technically incorrect but in your face, October! The name most often cited for that moon is the Beaver Moon, which really only works if you're sucked Quantum Leap-style back to the 18th century and dropped into the body of a fur trader, but I personally prefer the name attributed to the Choctaw, Sassafrass Moon, because it's fun to say (Sassyfras Moon!) and because sassafrass tea is the tastiest thing since bacon.
Sometimes it's called the Frost or Cold Moon, but those names and others like them wander around the calendar depending on the people in question and the climate they're living in. Also, the Inuit laugh at it. Cold Moon? This early? HA! Oh, and the Scraper Moon, which only sounds interesting and creepy until you roll out of bed at 6am and see your ice-covered windshield.
Other names that are sometimes given but which should be taken with a big grain of salt, are the Dark Moon, because it's darker outside this time of year, but this one's attributed to the Celts and so it's probably made-up, and the Mourning Moon, because "Dark Moon" wasn't gothy enough for the Wiccans.
Still, maybe it is time to stick modern monikers on the full moons, so they better reflect life now. Maybe the last full moon should have been the Moon of Xmas Stuff On Shelves Too Soon, and coming up, the Moon of Kids Needing To Wear A Damn Coat.
And that's a stupid question, Dave Murray, but I'll let you off the hook because it's such a commonly asked question.
First, by whom? And don't say "the Indians," because there were approximately umptymillion Native tribes in the Americas before Columbus landed, and at no point did they suddenly merge into one cohesive monocultural, monolinguistic, monoreligious unit that has a monopoly on the full moon.
Second, you know "October" and its fellow months are all based in a solar calendar that doesn't fit or have anything to do with the moon's meanderings, right? That is to say, there are 13 full moons in a calendar year. When assorted cultures have applied names to full moons, they didn't do it based on where that moon fell within a Roman-based solar calendar system, but as a separate calendar system in and of itself.
I'll simplify that: the full moon of October is the October moon. If you want to get fancy, you can call it the Moon of the 11th Month, or even the Moon of the Technically Incorrect 8th Month. Sometimes there are two of 'em. Deal.
The full moon that falls closest to the autumn equinox, according to my happy little research fest, is commonly known as the Harvest Moon and usually falls in September, though sometimes October gets lucky. There's some speculation that, because of tilts and ellipticals and whatnot, the moon around this time may rise a little later, burn a little brighter and look a little bigger (or it may not; they're still arguing, and I have a short attention span), and thus people could work a little bit longer in the fields, hence the name "Harvest Moon."
Unfortunately, that's bullpucky repeated by people who've never tried to wield sharp farm tools in the dark. Cultures that name moons usually name them based on what's going on around that time of year. Harvest time = Harvest Moon. Buried under blizzards and watching your rations run low = Hungry Moon. Sure, it's less poetic than "The Moon of Softly Falling Dreams," but you don't have to explain to the neighbors if that was before or after the food ran out.
If you lived in an area with a good growing season, you might have a Little Harvest Moon and a Big Harvest Moon. If you had other priorities, your Harvest Moon might instead have been a Black Butterfly Moon. (And no wonder--the little buggers were everywhere in September!) If you lived further north, your Harvest Moon might have popped up in July, with September playing host to the Tired Of Beans Moon. Far enough north, and maybe you don't have a Harvest Moon at all, but rather a Moon In Which We Briefly Have Greenery, briefly tucked between the Moon In Which We Hunt Seals and the Moon In Which We Also Hunt Seals.
(Any Inuit out there want to tell us what Tugluvik actually means?)
Anyhow, in common usage, which for America means "related to medieval Europe but attributed to the Native Americans because we're white like that," the full moon following the Harvest Moon is commonly called the Blood Moon or the Hunter's Moon. No more harvest, thanks to the frost, so it was time to stock the larders by killing off anything you didn't want to feed over the winter (sorry, Grandma!) and heading out into the king's forest for a little
Other names for this moon, depending on who you ask and how much you trust their sources (i.e. Running Steve's Site of Frequently Emailed Indian Facts! = probably not so much) are the Changing Leaves Moon, the Falling Leaves Moon and the Wilted Moon, depending on the state of your vegetation, and the Migrating Moon, except to the local geese who keep flying north to snack at the park.
Attributed to various Native tribes are also the names Longhair Moon and Shedding Moon, so your 'do is covered either way, though Movember approaches, gentlemen, so don't get comfy!
It's also the Raven Moon, though I was dubious about the authenticity of that one until the crows descended en masse at the local cemetery the day before the last full moon. Nice timing, guys. Very Halloween!
The next full moon will pop up on November 2nd, also known as All Souls' Day. It follows All Saints' Day, and the two are often conflated into the Day of the Dead, which is technically incorrect but in your face, October! The name most often cited for that moon is the Beaver Moon, which really only works if you're sucked Quantum Leap-style back to the 18th century and dropped into the body of a fur trader, but I personally prefer the name attributed to the Choctaw, Sassafrass Moon, because it's fun to say (Sassyfras Moon!) and because sassafrass tea is the tastiest thing since bacon.
Sometimes it's called the Frost or Cold Moon, but those names and others like them wander around the calendar depending on the people in question and the climate they're living in. Also, the Inuit laugh at it. Cold Moon? This early? HA! Oh, and the Scraper Moon, which only sounds interesting and creepy until you roll out of bed at 6am and see your ice-covered windshield.
Other names that are sometimes given but which should be taken with a big grain of salt, are the Dark Moon, because it's darker outside this time of year, but this one's attributed to the Celts and so it's probably made-up, and the Mourning Moon, because "Dark Moon" wasn't gothy enough for the Wiccans.
Still, maybe it is time to stick modern monikers on the full moons, so they better reflect life now. Maybe the last full moon should have been the Moon of Xmas Stuff On Shelves Too Soon, and coming up, the Moon of Kids Needing To Wear A Damn Coat.
