What Doth This Parrot Portend?

A UFO landed on my swimming pool yesterday morning. Okay. So it was some kind of parrot; but since I have yet to identify the genus, I'm sticking with the classification  "Unidentified Flying Object."

I was sitting on the patio doing my morning reading and meditation. I glanced up for a moment to glimpse a bright green parrot swoop down and perch on the railing into the pool. I wouldn't even be certain I really witnessed it, but I whispered to my hubby, "Look!" Hubby will verify that it was indeed there. A parrot. Of the most glorious, vibrant yellow-green. And then, as quickly as our guest had landed, she spread her wings and flew off.

"I wonder what it means?" I mused.

"It means someone lost their pet parrot," replied my literal thinking hubby.

I, on the other hand, am quite sure the visit by my chartreuse friend is a sign of some import, something that screams "Sit up straight and pay attention!" I don't like the word "omen."  It sounds so...well...ominous. But the appearance of our bright green bird was so unexpected, so incongruous on my desert patio against the marine blue background, I can't quite get it out of my mind. It has to mean something, doesn't it?  I did a Google search for "omens and parrots" but found nothing. Likewise a search of bird classification revealed little. The best I can figure, the bird might belong to the Amazon Green family. (Why is it you never have a camera at hand when you need one?)

I emailed my friend Sarah, a veterinary student and bird aficionado, for her expertise. "Do you suppose someone lost their pet parrot?" she replied.  Thanks Sarah.  That hadn't occurred to me.

The rest of the day my thoughts kept returning to the appearance of our fleeting stranger. It made the day rather magical and wondrous.  I spent a bit more time in the "now," aware of any new sound or sight that sparked my senses. I'll admit it.  I've been obsessing about that bright green bird now for 24 hours. And waiting...and waiting... (Insert heavy sight here.)

I have another friend who is a bona fide psychic. Perhaps I'll drop her an email and see what she thinks it all means. Then again, I'm afraid she'll probably say, "It means that someone lost their pet parrot." And that would be a disappointment I simply could not handle.

Facing That Fork in the Road

Some of you who are "worthy" of being counted on my very limited list of Facebook friends (wink wink) might remember the silly picture I posted several months ago of a table fork by the curb of the sidewalk we travel everyday. At the time I thought my discovery was the perfect whimsical sight joke, like a Concentration picture puzzle. Remember that game show?

Oh the irony!  I should have recognized the fork for what it really was--an omen. The memory of that fork dogged me these last few months. The first time I realized the significance of my discovery I had been inundated with life-altering choices. New job opportunities, relocation possibilities, heavy-duty King Solomon decisions to be made. The next time I walked the same route, I searched for the fork. There it rested, obscured with months of windy summertime debris.

Prophetic, huh?  The following weeks I sorted through what I truly wanted...my heart's desire. I began to visualize what my life would look like if things changed. Scary-- perhaps...exciting--definitely! 

And suddenly everything became clear. It defies explanation how easily things fall into place when you realize what you believe in. The Universe seemed to move mountains--mountains I hadn't even known existed three weeks before. New job? Snap!  New city? Snap! New home?  Well, God and I are still working on that, but I'm certain my perfect home will materialize in divine time. 

The fork in the road? The last time I walked, my nagging little utensil had vanished, most likely carried downstream with our recent gully-washers.  No matter. I don't need it anymore.  I know where I'm going. I don't need a fork in the road to point the way.

Haiku Voodoo: Eyes

I feel them staring.

They follow me down the street.

The Neighborhood Watch at work.

The Kitchen Garden Novice Scraps Happy

So I read my horoscope today. (Yes I am a Scorpio, and no I have not eaten any of my children.) Check it out:

This is less a premonition than an observation as I've already had a project in progress. I have known for the past month that my boss has a birthday coming up on Friday. She and I have shared many challenges as of late. It seemed an appropriate time to do something special for her. 

I wrote a poem a couple years ago and placed it on this blog: The Kitchen Garden Novice Reflects.. The verse I'd penned looked to be just right for the occasion;  I scrapped a tag book for her.

So was it merely coincidence that my horoscope today spoke of handmade art?  I think not.  Sometimes the Universe just knows when you need a kick in the seat of the pants to finish what you've started.

The Kitchen Garden Novice: Haiku Voodoo

Daybreak

Pink cotton candy

floats on soft blue milky skies.

Breakfast is served. Yum!

El Pequeno Barco

"Oh Lord, protect me for the sea is so wide, and my boat, so small."

a fisherman's prayer

We spotted her at the water's edge in Belize, while on our pilgrimage to ruins of greater notoriety. I'd forgotten all about this little boat until a day later. I flipped through digital images of Mayan temples and pyramids and  masks; there she was, proud in her decay.

I wondered what secrets she kept. Had she been a fisherman's skiff? Perhaps laid to rest by a fisherman's son after the owner's passing? Was she washed ashore by hurricane or typhoon? Or was she merely discarded by a child who outgrew her when deeper waters called?

Whatever her story, some caring soul had dragged her ashore and propped her in this place of honor, to weather with time and termite until land and sea reclaim her. And I, for one, cherish the discovery of such an exquisite treasure.

The Kitchen Garden Novice: Haiku Voodoo

Yellow

Profusion of blooms

Tickling, teasing the nose

Melted butter yard.