The Buried Moon

Long ago, in the flat, wet marshland of Lincolnshire, the Moon shone down every night. When she was bright, the people could find their way home along the narrow paths. But on dark nights, the marsh was full of mischief. Little bogles and wobbly will-o’-the-wisps came out to play tricks and lead people into the mud.

The Moon heard about this, and she felt sorry for the people. “I will go down and see for myself,” she said. So she wrapped herself in a long black cloak and pulled the hood over her shining hair. Then she stepped softly down onto the marsh.

It was very dark, and the ground was soft and squishy. Suddenly, her foot slipped, and an old tree root curled tight around her ankle. She pulled and pulled, but she could not get free. Just then, she heard a man calling for help, for he was lost and sinking in the mud. The Moon pushed back her hood, and her bright light spilled over the whole marsh. The man saw the path at once, and he hurried safely home. But as the Moon bent down to pull at the root, her hood fell back over her face.

At once, the marsh went dark again, and the bogles came creeping out. “It’s the Moon!” they giggled. “Now she cannot spoil our tricks!” They pushed her down into the soft mud and set a big flat stone on top of her. And there she stayed, tucked under the mud, with no one to see her light.

Night after night, the sky was dark, and the people of the village grew worried. “Where has our Moon gone?” they asked. The man who had been lost remembered the bright light in the marsh. So they went to the wise woman, and she told them what to do. “Go out at dusk with a hazel twig in your hand, and do not say a single word until you find her,” she said.

So the people walked out into the marsh, holding their twigs and keeping very quiet. At last, they found the big flat stone, with a little light flickering at its edge. Together they lifted the stone, and they saw a lovely, gentle face smiling up at them. Then, with a soft, silvery glow, the Moon floated up and up into the sky. From that night on, she shone brightly over the marsh, and the people always found their way home.