Wednesday, October 13, 2010


Dog-sitting for a friend the other day, I had occasion to be out earlier than usual.  I live on a street lined with oak trees, and all are filled with their fruits right now.  As a great grouping of starlings, or perhaps grackles, came through-- many taking positions among the top branches of the oaks-- hundreds of acorns came raining down on the cars and streets beneath.

People often ask me "how do you know (this or that) is an omen, and not just a coincidence?"  And in many spiritual traditions certain birds, or natural occurrences--such as falling acorns-- have meanings ascribed to them.  If one is not familiar with auguries, it would seem that no Druid or Native American would have made it through the day without witnessing hundreds of supernatural signs. 

For example, I rarely saw bats, hawks, or owls in Los Angeles.  And in St. Louis I rarely see or hear crows (because of a recent deadly virus that killed off a lot of crows and ravens in Missouri).  All of these creatures are regular messengers from the spirit world (or the subconscious, or the other). The rarer the occurrence, of course, the more likely it is an omen.  But that is not always true.

What non-believers and non-magickal folks don't get is the accompaniment. Perhaps a mood that washes over you when you hear the fish crow "caw-cawing", or the pressure on your spine when a breeze stirs the leaves before you as you stroll down the street. Or seeings the vapour, or mist, that surrounds spirits of the dead attached to the one white butterfly that flies past you, that makes it different from all the other white butterflies.

As much as I wish the starling startled acorns had been a sign of "riches raining down upon me" or the coming harvest of some long, and patiently awaited dream, I felt no such prescience that morning.  Mostly I just felt I was being pelted. 

So, while it was, up until that morning, a rare occurrence, it did not have the earmarks of an omen.  In fact, I listen for it now, in the morning, when I am up early. 

Now, a few days later, a wounded butterfly was on my doorstep, and later that day a night moth with patterns like eyes on its' wings in the bathroom.  Both were draped in accidents, injuries, and possible death.  There was little I could do to prevent the things signal from occurring, but that is another post, for another day.

With love from my heart to yours,
Lady Rae

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