Mario Villalobos

The Waning Gibbous Moon


  • Journal

Woke up to a power outage, and my first thought was, Shit, I can’t make coffee. I order my coffee beans online on a weekly schedule, and each bag is different. One might come from Texas this week and the next one might come from Peru. I have a coffee grinder that can hold an entire 12oz bag of beans, and I have set it to a fine grind, suitable for my AeroPress. I’ve been making AeroPress coffee for the majority of my time in Montana, and I haven’t switched it up because this device makes delicious coffee. I have an electric gooseneck kettle that allows me to control the water temperature to the right degree. 205°F, if you’re wondering. Finally, I have a kitchen scale that helps me weigh it all down in 0.1-gram increments. It’s a beautiful morning routine, one that helps me start my day my way. Friends have ridiculed me for having this routine, but I don’t care. It’s mine, it makes me happy, and I love it.

The moon no longer looks full in the sky. I’ve never studied the phases of the moon, but perhaps I can start. Some cultures have personified the moon as a deity, some God with supernatural abilities. Others have used the moon to help them keep track of time. In fact, the etymology of the English word month stems from the moon and the interval between one new moon and the next. But for me, the moon can be my anchor while I try to figure out what comes next. When I feel lost, I can always look up at the sky and see the moon and understand its phases and perhaps feel its supernatural abilities to help me figure out what might come next. Right now it’s telling me that I need to make another cup of coffee, so that’s what I will do.