Wheel of Fortune

March 23, 2020

Believe III

Lately I have seen more birds coming to the lake. There have always been the Muscovy ducks, but today there are two moorhens and an anhinga.

I am waiting for her to surface from the lake.

In addition to the microgreens I bring I have started bringing bits of my homemade bread. Water, flour, sea salt and yeast. I have often made it with boiled water from the Gulf. But the beaches are closed and sea salt will do. When my bread seed poppies have flowered and gone to seed I will add those to the mixture.

To break bread has always represented socialization and community, but now in these times of Covid-19 it must be done symbolically or virtually.

I feel I ripple in the pond before I see her come to the shelf of shelf of sand separating the water from the grass.

Today she has parted the black veil usually covering her face. I am startled by the cold, aquamarine blue of her eyes and her copper hair laced with white. Using her finger as a pencil she scrawls a word in the sand, "Sybylla". "My name," she states .

I offer her the bread, and greens, some grapes, and a Lady of Guadalupe rose that I have cut from our bush this morning.

She takes my gifts and shimmies away.

It is a fine communion.



The Cook's Tarot--Four of Wands--You are free to move around the cabin.