Sign of the Times

Not all the signs I see are good ones.  Today I saw a very pretty, but very sad sign indeed.  As I walked home in the bitter winter cold from my morning yoga class, I passed two
lovely, robust robins on a snow covered lawn just s few houses away from where I live.  Their red breasts were a vivid contrast against the light layer snow on the ground.  Both birds were searching for food in the frozen earth.  It was a beautiful and disturbing sight at the same time.  It's not yet mid-January and these birds had clearly made their migration back to their northern breeding grounds at least a full two months too soon.  Or perhaps they had never migrated south in the fall in the first place.  It's hard to say.
Today's wintry weather was a welcome change to the unseasonably and unnaturally warm winter we've had in these here parts of the true north strong and freezing.  I've fretted for many weeks now about global warming and the serious imbalance in the rhythms of nature.  Seeing the two robins today brought that point home.  I also marvelled at how those birds could have known that we've been having an exceptionally mild winter up here, which would explain why they arrived so early.  How is that possible?  Nature can be as weird as she is wonderful.
There are at least eight weeks of winter weather to endure yet, and despite the fact that it's a freakishly mild one, no doubt there will be a few spells of "normal" winter weather that will likely kill those hapless birds.  Even if they can withstand the cold - and robins are pretty tough as songbirds go - finding food will be a major problem.  They will probably perish from starvation.  Worms, their major food source, stay well below ground level in cold weather.

Those two robins standing on a blanket of snow made a pretty picture, like something you might see on a Christmas card.  But it was also a cautionary sign of more strange and unnatural things to come.  It looked good, but it wasn't right.  Things are terribly off-kilter on this planet of ours.  I fear it might be too late to reverse things.  We will need a miracle to save her, which would be nothing less than all of humanity getting together to change the way we treat her.  That would be a miracle, indeed.
I notice signs.  I heed them.  This is one I wish I hadn't seen.  I pray for those two beautiful birds.  I pray for Mother Earth.  I pray for us all.
Blessed be.
- G.P.

As the Day Turns

I am 23,432 days old today.  That's a numerical palindrome; it reads the same forwards and backwards.  It's another pattern I've observed as I walk the road of life.  Noticing patterns and signs such as the ostensibly inconsequential number I'm discussing here keeps me aware of the passing of time, and especially how I spend my time, from day to day, and even moment to moment.
This is not the first time I've told my rabid readers of my age in days, nor is it the last.  I expect I'll keep track of my age in days for the rest of my life, and make note of it right here on my little web.  I'm well aware that these observations are noteworthy only to me, and are probably some of the flakiest blurbs I write.  But I just can't help sharing this silly bit of information, because it's part of the universe I occupy. 
It also happens to be a new moon.  That's a good sign.  Starting the first lunation of the new year with a very special diaversary* bodes well.  To quote Maya Angelou,  This a wonderful day.  I've never seen this one before. 
(*Diaversary is a word I invented, pronounced dee-a-versary.  It's composed of the Latin words dies for "day," and versus, the past participle of vertere, "to turn."  Hence it refers to the "turning of the day."  Similarly, anniversary is derived from anno for "year" + versus, meaning the "turning of the year." )
As we travel on this journey called life the days of our lives keep turning, until sadly, one day they don't.  But until that inevitable day, I shall continue to count mine, one by one, and marking each one of them as a special occasion.  So allow me to wish myself, as well as all my fervid followers, Happy Diaversary!
- G.P.

Enter Stage Right

Entrances matter to me.  There are all kinds of entrances - making an entrance, walking through an entrance, writing an entry, entering a new year. They mark the beginning of things.  They set a tone.  They are symbolic of whatever follows.  So I'm writing this entry as I enter the New Year.  I haven't written anything in this little web of mine for almost three months.  But today, the first day of 2016, is the perfect time to resume a semi-regular writing routine.  Gossamer Penwyche has re-entered the blogosphere. 

I also care about the appear-ance of the entrance to where I'm living or staying, because it's the first thing I see upon entering my home or lodgings.  If it's been a long, hard day, and I'm feeling muddle-headed, I like the hallway to be clean and clear.  After a hectic day, entering a cluttered vestibule does nothing to improve my mood.  Coming into chaos is no way to empty the mind. 
For several years now I've been troubled by the increasingly cluttered front doorway of the house where I live.  I stopped dropping hints to my housemate/landlady about clearing out the books and newspapers that have been piling up over the six years I've been there.  It only causes arguments.  So for several weeks leading up to this New Year's I was fretting more than usual about  the clutter in the entrance, which was reaching critical mass. 

Clearing "stuff" out of one's life is one of the most effective ways to begin anew, and I was worried that my entry into 2016 was going to be littered with bad signs.  Then fate made a welcome entrance.  Yesterday, on December 31, my housemate moved a lot of the stuff from the front hallway to a pantry in the back room, well out of sight.  I hadn't said anything to her.  I didn't dare.  She just up and cleared the space on her own.  So when I entered my home on New Year's Eve, the tiny hallway was as free and clear of clutter as it's ever been.  It was the best sign I could possibly have received upon beginning a brand new year. 
My housemate has no idea how deeply grateful I am for the gift she gave me.  It left me feeling so light of heart that observing the first day of the year by being and becoming the best possible me was a breeze, and culminated in this long overdue entry on my little web.  And for that I'm grateful, too.
I've entered the new year on the right footing and in the right frame of mind.  I can read the signs as they guide me on my way to the rest of my life, and Goddess willing, the best of my life.
Blessed be.
- G.P.