I recently found this rhyme quoted on Peter Sieruta’s excellent blog, Collecting Children’s Books. I think it’s just lovely:
The Moon’s the North Wind’s cookie
He bites it, day by day
Until there’s but a rim of scraps
That crumble all away.
The South Wind is the baker
He kneads clouds in his den,
And bakes a crisp new moon that …
Greedy…. North…. Wind ….eats….again!
Lately whenever I am loading my kids in the car, William has developed the habit of pointing to the ceiling of the garage and shouting “Moon! Moon!” Upon closer inspection, I discovered that when the sun shines on big round vent pipe on the top of the garage roof, the light reflects off of its insides. When viewed from below, it looks like a little crecent-shaped moon, just the right size for a two-year-old to claim as his own.