"Ceremony was but devis’d at first
To set a gloss on faint deeds."
Shakespeare’s Timon of Athens (I.ii.18-9)
Leo: It’s a matter of stopping, long enough to hear the audible buzz of the hummingbirds, that’s the way to handle this sort of energy. I was on the western flank of the Franklin Mountains, and my friend there had three, maybe four hummingbird feeders set up.
In the eldritch morning light, on a summer morning, like in June, their little birds were amazing. Buzzing, not much bigger than some of the insects, every once in while the hummingbirds could be heard, or seen, alighting long enough to feed on the sugar water. Then the little birds would flit off to a branch, nearby, and alight for a moment’s respite. Then it was back at furious work. The songs of the birds were more like little chirps, and at one point, a big beetle buzzed through, and it was nearly the same size at the hummers.
While I was sitting out there, a hummingbird buzzed by my head, sounding perilously close. All that work, the wings beating the air furiously, and yet there’s a grace to the movement. The little birds would dart and dash about, partaking of fuel, and then buzz off to do whatever hummers do. That’s Leo, this week, furiously working.
Virgo: There’s a certain type of elegance at play in the Virgo chart. It was originally a term that a friend of mine used when describing software solutions for hardware problems. He was more of the hacker or code-monkey type, and when he used the term, it meant that there was a clever, original, perhaps anachronistic effort to solve a given dilemma.
If the shortest distant between two points is a straight line, and the most effective way to solve a software problem involves the least amount of code, then this term, "elegance," applies in Virgo land. Now, even. It’s about finding the simplest and yet, most effective solution. Make it simple, direct, short. Make it look pretty, too. As long as there’s Venus in Virgo? Make it elegant.
Libra: I was with a client, in a reasonably nice restaurant, and on the blackboard, the "catch of the day" was listed as "Perch." I asked the nice waiter, who’s birthday was in early October, where the catch-of-the-day originated. "Perch, right?" and he consulted his notes, "I think it’s from a lake outside of Houston."
I went ahead and ordered the special with that "fresh perch," and let it go at that. I was topped by the waiter, that’s for sure. It was a Sea Perch, and probably from the Coast, but again, I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t any little lake perch — critters I’m used to seeing — although, the catch of the day could’ve been from such a location.
It’s about being witty, and it’s also all about knowing when to let the person with the most wit win. It’s really easy. I faced off against a seasoned pro, and he’d heard all the fish jokes he could take that afternoon, long before I showed up. And as a Libra, he showed me up, too.
Scorpio: I’d had a brief liaison with one particular female. I was working at an event, and next to me, was a true fortune teller. I had a lull in my action, so I went over and asked, "Will this ever come to fruition? Will she ever return my calls? Will I ever see her again?" The psychic, consulted her tarot cards, looked me in the eye, and then she proceeded to tell me that me and that one girl? We would be happily married, live happily afterwards, maybe have kids, house, white picket fence, foreign travel, fame and riches. Only cost me $40. I was much relieved.
Too bad, none of that transpired. I’m still dodging bill collectors, the girl broke my heart and went on to be on national TV — most certainly without me, although, I did predict that would happen, and while my predictions were good, that one psychic? Must’ve been talking to Elvis. Or channeling some other reality.
The stars suggest that you could fall for a fortuneteller’s charm right now. I’m not saying that it can’t come through, I’m just suggesting that you be more careful about what you’re looking for. And with whom you spend your hard-earned Scorpio cash.
Sagittarius: What’s the price of a bass lure in NM and in TX have to do with Sagittarius? Quite a bit, actually, see, I was in a big fishing store in San Antonio, and this one type of lure is pretty pricey there. Known as a productive lure, it’s a hot seller, fetches $15 or so, regular retail price.
I stopped in a store, sporting goods store, in southern NM, and the same brand, same, identical lure — exact same — was only about $9. That lure slays them in Central Texas. In Southern NM, though, apparently no one cares about it. Their loss, if you ask me, good productive bait.
It’s about variations and looking a little further than usual, for what will and won’t work. Make allowances for local variations, too. Which is why I tend to shop around, just a little more. Plus, there’s always the local lore and store of stories, but I’ll save them for another day. Look for what works, locally.
Capricorn: I unclipped my phone to take a dip in the creek. As I discovered, many years ago, cell phones and their ilk are not waterproof. Not even water resistant. Less than a second? Those things are toast. So I didn’t have my phone on me. And I was just trying a quick cast with a small lure, more like testing, less like fishing, and wham! A big mouth bass hits the lure, engulfs it, and starts the epic struggle of fin against man.
I won. Why I’m called the fishing guide to the stars, huh. But I wasn’t expecting a win and therefore, I wasn’t prepared. I mean, I’m almost always ready to fish, given the weather and conditions, but some days, I’m ill-prepared to land a struggling monster. Like I did. It was this big. No, really, it was one of a gang that I know, personally. He — or she — was ravenous, and I was lucky.
Only, unprepared as I was? No picture. No phone, remember? No camera, no evidence other than a fishy smell on my hands from wrestling that guy off the hook. He — or she — wasn’t happy. I was. Except for the picture part.
I can warn you about being prepared for certain exigencies, like a fish, when you least expect it, but that’s not going to help much. However, I can suggest that you carry — at all times in the next week — something to record your efforts. You’ll see, or maybe just hear, some snippet, some clip, perhaps it’s just a fish and you want proof that you caught it. Without supporting evidence? It’s nothing more than fish tails.
Aquarius: The myth, as I understand it, is that the mother turtle waits offshore for the new-born turtles to make it out to sea. The reality is that sea-turtles get zero post-natal parental care. I picked that fact up some place, probably while I was researching fishing, or the information about the Texas Gulf Coast, which does have its share of sea turtle habitats.
I remember fishing, along the coast one evening, and there was a sea turtle. And unlike the local waters’ turtles, I fished carefully as I didn’t want to endanger what might be an endangered species. I’m not much up on my turtle taxonomy. But this isn’t about turtles, sea-turtles or she-turtles. And how can you tell difference between the male and female turtles? I don’t have a clue. This is about the myth, which is that there’s some kind of parental aftercare, once the eggs are hatched and then the harsh reality that there is no parental guidance. Whatsoever. None. As Mars picks his way across the sky, he’s creating a disturbance for the Aquarius heavens. It’s about the myth, as opposed to, the reality of a given situation. And how do you tell the girl turtles from the boy turtles?
Pisces: I buy a lottery ticket, well, whenever the mood strikes me. Not that often, not like it’s a regular occurrence or anything, just a kind of a tax — that’s a dollar spent on hopes, dreams and prayers. When I checked one ticket, the other afternoon, I found that I had one winning number, which meant that the ticket itself was now worth two dollars. Go and buy two more tickets? Keep the two dollars? Decisions, decisions….
What did I do? Think, you’re probably a Pisces, or have a Pisces heart, or understand the loving and kind nature of Pisces, correct? So, I was pondering what to do with the ticket, as I’d stuck it back into my wallet, along with my paltry supply of cash. The winning ticket, all two dollars, went into the tip jar for a certain girl at a certain coffee shop. It was an afternoon espresso, and just something to take the edge off the heat. I dropped the ticket in the tip bucket and she snagged that ticket like it was worth hundreds or thousands — or millions — of dollars.
I explained it was a only a couple of bucks, but it also represented something else. There was an exchange, and I was passing along some good luck. I’m not promising that you’ll get a winning lottery ticket this week. If you do? I’d like 1%, but I’m not getting my hopes up. This is about passing along a little bit of good luck. That’s all, just a totem gesture. Works wonders. Try it yourself.
Aries: It’s an image that I’ve yet to reconcile within my own mind, and I’m hoping that it’s a form of irony. It was a cute young lady wearing a pink t-shirt. The pink t-shirt was emblazoned with a skull and crossbones logo on the front. Pink. White skull and bones, quite possibly a poison warning. I’m not sure. In part, this could just be my way of looking at the world, and I’m missing some point, or really could be an iconic and ironic message of some sort.
Perhaps I’m making something out of nothing, not that it would be the first time. Perchance this is a common enough sight in some department stores. Still, it struck me as funny, in a an odd way. Then it made me think about the Aries chart, for the moment. Funny, possibly ironic, and maybe, just maybe, a little confused as to what the message is. There’s a chance to develop a theory about what I saw, or better, there’s a chance to present your own material in a similar and either ionic or iconic, or maybe, both, kind of way. Think about it. Doesn’t much matter what you’re pitching, now’s a good time for a pink t-shirt with skull and crossbones.
Taurus: We were the single bass boat out during one of those Try Athlete events, you know the kind? Where hundreds of tan and fit women line up and sprint across a trail to ride a bike and them swim something like miles in the lake, only to bike home or something? Yeah, one of those.
Why they have those in the middle of the summer is just a clue that it’s not a good idea. It’s hot. I landed a decent bass, and the girls were swimming by. The two are completely unconnected, except, like, my fishing partner that morning? He was amused as I was having a hard time trying to dig the hook out of the bass’s mouth. "Dude, hurry up, like, there’s girls watching, you know." That’s supposed to be some kind of motivation. Didn’t work. But it was a nice try. I was working on not ripping the fish’s lip.
Mars, remember him? He’s frying along, and he’s like my buddy, goading me a little. I’m a patient sort, though, and I know that it takes time to make sure that the fish is returned to the lake, unharmed. But Mars? He’s going to try and get your attention, or draw your attention away from what you’re working on, and that’s not good. Someone, like that fish, could get hurt.
Gemini: We were pulling up to the dock, after a morning of trolling baits through the lake. Not like we were really catching anything, but it was cool on the water, and it sure beat, like, working or something. There’s the odd arrangement of the planets, and as such, I couldn’t help but draw a simile between what happened that morning, there was a young kid, on the dock, and his older sister, I’m guessing, or babysitter, was standing there, and as we pulled up she pleaded with me to rescue the little remote control boat.
The kid had set the boat adrift before turning on the controls. He had a control box with an antenna and joystick, and he was all set to motor around with the RC Boat, only, as it turned out, he hadn’t flipped on the "on" switch. Therein is a problem. Nice guy that I am, I gladly rescued the little toy boat, and the kid was happy, the babysitter, or older sibling, was appreciative.
Not every Gemini will launch a remote control boat, forgetting the switch. But you’re going to pull a similar stunt, and I can only hope that there’s nice guy in a bass boat to save your hide. Check to make sure the key’s in the ignition, make sure it’s "on," whatever it is.
Cancer: We’re closing out the 30 degrees of Cancer with a celebration. Some good fun, some tough times, but generally speaking the next year — starting from the Caner birthday, this next 12 months is beginning to take shape.
Out of the faceless void, there’s going to emerge a pattern or two, and while none of these patterns are etched in stone, some of the better themes begin to become more visible. It’s time to latch onto the parts of the patterns that you like. The stuff that’s fun, entertaining and intellectually amusing? That’s the good part. Embrace the good changes.
Could be as simple as some summer reading that’s really got a depth you didn’t perceive when you picked up the material. Could be simply getting in touch with old friends. Distances are shrinking with electronic communications, and it’s easier than before to find some person you’ve lost touch with. Matter of letting your fingers do the walking. It’s pattern of familiarity, and the parts that enjoyable? That’s the piece of the puzzle you want to embrace.