Signs

 

Signs are the keys that spark something inside of us. It doesn't matter if we think they are a sign from god, or nature, or lady luck. It only matters that we wanted a sign and one appeared. It is the wanting that is the magic. The wanting to believe, to think, to know deep down inside that things can change.

Whenever I see a blue heron flying over I take that as a good omen. Other good signs for me, are deer by the side of the road, or deep inside the woods. Eagles remind me of my brother. Owls of my parents long ago when I thought they knew everything.

This past week I saw an eagle flying along side a bridge I was driving over. Later I saw a doe staring at me from only feet away. Today a heron flew over as I ate breakfast beside the lake.

All of these things make me feel good, but this afternoon, at home, I experienced something for the briefest part of a second that warmed me through and through. 

It was a dash of hope, a flash of possibilities, a microsecond of that old belief that anything is possible if I only want it badly enough to try hard enough.

I haven't felt possibilities for a future in a very long time. It seemed I might have grown past the age of them until today.

And that is a very good sign.