Wolf Moon

By Curt Swarm

The first full moon in 2025 arrived on Monday, Jan. 13 at 6:22 p.m., CST. It is called the Wolf Moon, because wolves were wont to prowl and howl (“ululate,”) on cold January nights, searching for prey. If the wolves howled, it was a sign that a long cold winter was ahead. If the wolves didn’t howl, the remainder of the winter would be mild. Since the demise or extermination of wolves in Iowa, we have to rely on other signs to determine what the rest of winter will be. (I know, we have an occasional wolf wander through Iowa.)

The Wolf Moon passed in front of Mars in what is called a Lunar Occultation. Occultation is a term that describes when one object passes in front of another, blocking the view of the object behind it, sorta like when I hide the peanut cluster jar behind my back so Ginnie can’t see what I’m in to. (Yeah, right.)

If Mars is visible with the naked eye (strange term) before the moon passes in front of it, and again after the moon passes, it’s a sign that it’s going to be a tough winter — the theory being if you can see Mars, it’s obviously a clear night, meaning cold; if you can’t see Mars, it’s cloudy, meaning warm winter ahead. I could not see Mars, therefore I’m predicting mild temperatures and weather conditions for the remainder of winter. So there you have it — the rest of the winter is going to be mild, per the Wolf Moon. If we can use a groundhog or woolly bear caterpillar (fuzzy-wuzzy) as weather predictors, we can certainly use Mars and the Wolf Moon, more stable entities by far.

I’ve been concerned about my memory lately — my long-term memory. It’s usually the short-term memory that we have issues with like, why did I walk into this room? And rest assured, I have plenty of problems with short-term memory. But my long-term memory is acting up, too. I became aware of it through reading. I often times read books two and three

times—sometimes back-to-back, sometimes years apart. I have been rereading all of Elizabeth Strout’s books because she’s my favorite female fiction writer. I do the majority of my reading on Kindle (don’t hold that against me). If I didn’t think I had read a certain book of hers, I would attempt to buy it on Kindle. A message would pop up, like, “Hey stupid, you bought this book back in 2010.” Well, duh!

Such was the case with Strout’s book, “Amy and Isabelle” her first published book, I believe. I tried to buy the Kindle version and received that snarky message. But I couldn’t remember reading “Amy and Isabelle.” I thought, “Well, maybe I bought it but didn’t read it.” I found “Amy and Isabelle” in my Kindle “Library.” I started reading it and was marveling at how well it was written when I came across passages I had “marked” years ago. Many, many passages, all the way to the end of the book. Hmm. There was the proof. I had already read the book. But, I reread “Amy and Isabelle,” and it’s maybe my favorite Elizabeth Strout book, and I have absolutely no memory, zero, of reading it before. How can this be? I pride myself in being able to recall passages from books I read in high school. But here I am, not able to remember anything about a book I read in the recent past. As we age, does our brain become so saturated with minutia that it has no room for more memory? Or am I in the early stages of dementia? I recently had a cognitive test by a professional and passed with flying colors. Whew! So, what’s going on?

Ginnie and I both read a lot, often times the same books, like two woodchucks chucking wood. We can discuss what we’re reading, ask questions and agree or disagree. (I’m usually right.) But why do I have no recall of a book I obviously read in the medium-range past? It must be the gravitational pull of the Wolf Moon, drawing the long-term memory cells away from my consciousness. The Wolf still howls. Owoo!

Contact Curt Swarm at curtswarm@yahoo.com.