Fishing Guide to the Stars
by Kramer Wetzel
(c) 2005, 2006 by Kramer Wetzel for astrofish.net
For the Week starting: 9.14.2006
“Are these
Your faithful friends o’ th’ suburbs?”
Shakespeare’s Henry VIII [V.iv.66-7]
(It’s the Chamberlain looking on while infant Elizabeth is crowned.)
Aries: It’s all a matter of being what and who you are. I understand certain points about myself. Let’s pretend I’m Aries. I’m an Anglo male; therefore, I’m noted for poor fashion sense and marked with no rhythm. Way it goes. Doesn’t mean that I can’t dance, but I can’t. doesn’t mean that I really should even try. Which I don’t. Sartorially, what with being fashioned challenged and all, that’s okay. I long made peace with my foibles. I can expend a great deal of time, effort, and money, in order to find someone who can teach me how to dance. Or I can expend an even greater amount of time, money and effort, learning how to properly attire myself. Both, to me, seem like a waster of precious time. I’d rather be, well, good bet I’d rather be fishing. I’m not sure what you’d rather be doing. In certain situations, like a dress-up scenario at work, or when I’m expected to do something, I’ll take a little extra time and make an effort to be properly prepared. But again, I tend to expend my efforts to play to my strengths, and fashion as well as rhythm, aren’t in my column of strengths. Go with what works. We’re just fixin’ to have a new moon, in a place that will question what you’re good at. Play to what works, don’t try and be something that you’re not.
Taurus: I was paging through a fishing text, and it read that the earliest record of fish in America was the Cutthroat Trout, recorded by Spanish explorers in 1541. But I got to thinking about that, I mean, if I was following the book’s logic, that means there were no fish in America before then, right? Until some marauding explorer, bent on exploitation of the native lands, and the fool’s search for gold, and until these European interlopers showed up, there were no fish? I’m not getting it. Sounds a little revisionist to me. If there were tasty trout in the stream of the Rockies, I’m sure the local residents had already figured out how to catch and tastefully prepare those fishes for food. I’d also consider that the record of rock art will probably show fish, even bigger fish, it’s just that that’s not part of the Western Written Record. I’m glad we got that set straight. In Taurus land, much like that revised version of “white man” history, there’s a single item that demands your attention. Some part of the Taurus record needs to be set straight. Now’s the time, or will be, pretty soon, and I’d suggest you figure out that single item that needs to be corrected.
Gemini: I was idle, by the edge of the river, and neighbor was walking her dog. Makes for a lot of interaction with neighbors, but that’s life in a trailer park. “Enjoying the Fall weather?” she asked. “Right,” was my answer, “it’s so cool out, I had to put on shirt.” In typical Gemini fashion, though, I was working my way towards an evening’s meal, and in order to be admitted to the restaurant, I needed to be properly attired, i.e., wearing a shirt. With the way the planets stack up against you, or for you, what’s going to transpire will be much like my little interaction, other folks don’t get it. Doesn’t matter, either, as your facile Gemini mind should be able to come up with a quick, witty reply, and that’ll help ease on through whatever is going on.
Cancer: Virgo is rapidly drawing to a close, and there’s a sense of urgency in Cancer. There seems to be one last item that needs to be wrapped up. Some task, bothering you at the back of the brain, underneath your shell, there’s one item on the “to do” list that still needs attending to. Needs to get done. You’re missing one, single piece to the puzzle. One piece of data is missing, and it’s going to be up to your Cancer self to uncover this lost bit of information. The last part of the puzzle. I’m reminded of a former family holiday tradition of putting together a jigsaw puzzle. One year, the final piece, a cornerstone piece, so to speak, was found, almost after the fact, on the floor. Wasn’t even on the table. Don’t be afraid, as the moon gets thinner and thinner, to look elsewhere for that missing piece, so you can complete the one last item on the Cancer “to do” list.
Leo: How does that song go? “One foot on the brake and one the gas?” Is that the proper lyric? Sounds right, I’m thinking. And it fits with your current situations. One foot on the gas. All go for Team Leo. You’ve got the ideas, you’ve got the moxie, you’ve got the ability. You have the drive to succeed. The other foot, though, it’s dragging behind, the one on the brake. Got to go slow. Too many obstacles. Too many problems. Too much interference. Too much obstructions in the path for the Leo. Which is it going to be? It looks like a little of both, and that’s where a certain amount of patience, foresight and some careful planning will pay off. Looking at a couple of causes of the interference? I’m thinking a stomp on the brakes. Just stop. Before you move ahead, before you plunge forward, wildly plunge forward, just stop. Before you push the Leo petal to the floor, before you accelerate blindly forward, stop. Let’s look at a map. Maybe ask for directions. About thirty seconds of careful consideration before pushing forward can save you a lot of trouble. Or a better yet, might save you from getting a ticket.
Virgo: It’s what I consider the trailing edge of Virgo, almost the last of it. Still, there are some good parties,, but what we’re looking at here is the moon is getting dark. As the moon gets thinner and thinner, and did I mention you’re looking particularly good these days, but as the moon gets thinner and thinner, a fair number of the folks you interact with are going to be a more difficult than usual. This doesn’t have to interfere with your good times, though. Not the way I see it. It’s a matter of careful positioning. How you place yourself, where you place your self? That’s the secret. It’s little trick. I’ve discovered that a number of my “fishy friends” scurry away at the sight of my shadow. What I do, when I’m stalking fish on a September afternoon? I’ll position myself in such a way so that my shadow doesn’t disturb the little fellers. And some of the big ones, too. It’s matter of not making my presence known. All about how you position yourself, and that’s what this planet arrangement is about. Position yourself for success.
Libra: I was in a sporting goods store, looking for a particular “glow in the dark” worm, fishing tackle. As I wandered the aisles, I happened upon a perfect package, a collection of herbs and spices, just destined to help the average Libra. “Jerky Cure.” That’s what the package said. It was, in reality, a selection of “natural” flavorings to help cure beef jerky. Or venison. Or just about anything, I’m sure. But it was the title that attracted me. Imagine that you’ve found a similar kind of product. Something to cure jerks. In my situation, I was looking at an expensive package that was basically salt and pepper, probably not a lot more. Doubt that would cure the folks who you’re running into. But it’s a thought, and sometimes, a simple thought like this can help ease the way the day is going. Seems that you’ve attracted more than your fair share of people who could, at the very least, use a slight sprinkling from that package.
Scorpio: I was with a small group and we were being seated in a restaurant. Not a big thing, weekend night, the place was crowded. WE were shuffled off to one of the spare rooms, and in that room, there was a large table of children. Most of the kids were between 4 and maybe 10 years old. Be my guess. I groaned. I didn’t want to sit next to a table full of infants, probably ruin my dinner. But we were seated, and then, one of my dining companions (perspicacious Virgo) noted that the table full of parents was going to be a problem, not the offspring. I didn’t grasp the severity of the trouble, but the adults were intoxicated, to the point of not making a lot of sense, and talking louder and louder. “Yeah, no wonder the kids wanted a separate table, huh?” Before jumping to a hasty conclusion, like I did, maybe enlist the assistance of Virgo, or maybe, just open your own Scorpio senses, eyes and ears, and see, or hear, if you can determine what the real source of trouble is. Makes it a lot easier to deal with the problems that crop up in the next week — no hasty conclusions.
Sagittarius: I stopped in a bookstore, and I was glancing through the magazine rack, more on the way to some place lese, but a certain fishing magazine caught my attention. The graphic on the front page, the usual large mouth bass with a lure and the splashing lake water, plus a headline, “Use your MENTAL POWERS to catch Big Bass!” Oh, that’s an interesting tag line. Almost worked until I flipped to the article itself, and it seemed to be nothing more than a certain dose of common sense. Drink plenty of water. It’s September, but it’s still hot out there. The fish like food that looks like the food that they’re currently eating, mimic nature to catch fish, and so on. Nothing new to me. But the title, the headline, that was intriguing. Almost got me to buy the magazine. I passed it up, though, because I used my Sagittarius mental powers to see that it wasn’t any new news. Something will catch your eye this week. It looks like big news. Even a cursory glance though, might reveal that you can save time, money and effort by not investing in whatever is offered. Use those mental powers you’ve got.
Capricorn: “I remember that ponytail,” she said, “I knew you looked familiar.” It was a Capricorn of obvious proportions, being her usual brash (I’m assuming here) self. I wasn’t my usual self, though, I was bit more taciturn. The details about the situation really aren’t remarkable, other than her comment, which, in turn, plays out with Capricorn in the next couple of days. You’re recognized. Observed, noted, filed away, some type of recognition happens. Take it for what its worth, but don’t count on the recognition happening where, how, or when you want it to. For that matter, don’t count on recognition for something you’ve done, more like some — to you — to me — unremarkable point about your attire and personal deportment. Like, “I remember that ponytail.”
Aquarius: It’s all about the stories that we tell ourselves. It’s about how we talk to ourselves, what we say in that running monologue in the Aquarius head. Listen careful to what you’re saying to yourself. There’s a certain degree of dry wit that you employ, but sometimes, that wording can deviate into a downward spiral of self-deprecation. A little bit of self-sacrifice is okay for amusement, but when this kind of mental banter gets carried away, you wind up feeling a little “less than.” I don’t want you feeling like you’re less than the rest of us, not a mighty and wondrous Aquarius. So that’s why I’m suggesting that you listen to the banter that is going on in your own skull. It’s funny, to me, but then, I understand and appreciate the way your brain works. It’s funny, at times, to you. No one can amuse you more than your fine Aquarius self. But there’s a problem, too, and that has to do with the content of that running speech. I’m not suggesting that you practice affirmation for half an hour in front of the mirror every morning, but I am making a point about the points that you make. To yourself. Look at the content of what you’re saying to you. If I were talk like that to you, you’d probably have an adverse reaction — and not a pleasant one.
Pisces: One would think, by the middle of September, that cool weather would arrive in Central Texas. Not so. To be sure, the other morning was cool out, until the sun came up. Some of the vegetation, that which isn’t burnt, is still green, especially down alongside the creek. I was thinking about a particular spot, and when I walked past that place, my pole in hand, I could see a little gang of black bass, all lined up, ready to be caught, one at a time. Sounds inviting? It should. I’m not sure what you’re fishing for, but whatever it is, imagine them all lined up, almost in row, waiting for you. Just like those fish I passed. The obstacle, and I’ve tangled with this one before, on that one spot? The tree I’d use for cover and support? It’s covered with dreaded poison ivy. “Leaflets three — no friend of me.” Plus, that poison ivy stretches across the ravine I’d climb down in order to get to those fish. Consider the options, my fine Pisces friend. There, in the clear water, fish, begging for your attention. Between you and the fish? About ten feet of ivy covered bank-side. Poison ivy covered bank. There’s a mess of planets in Virgo, but now that Mars has switched signs? There’s less obstacles, or, in my example, obstacles that are easier to discern. I thought about the poison ivy, I thought about my shins and forearms covered with a red rash, I thought about a number of fish, potential friends, hooked up with me, and then I figured I’d pass. I can tackle some obstacles, but in bare feet and shorts? I’m not sure that’s what I wanted to tackle. Consider the reaction you have to surmounting that obstacle — might want to look for another spot to fish from, first.
All Rights Reserved
copyright (c) 2005, 2006 Kramer Wetzel, for astrofish.net
- Aperture: ƒ/1.8
- Camera: iPad Pro (11-inch)
- Flash fired: no
- Focal length: 3mm
- ISO: 64
- Shutter speed: 1/60s
