Before the storm
Today’s walk was a compressed replay of everything the cards have been showing me. The sky darkened fast, and I moved with it instead of against it — that alone felt significant.
The dead bird returned, same message as before: an ending, a closing chapter, something already spent that needs to be released rather than mourned as failure. Paired with the fading garden and dwindling flowers, it’s confirmation — not a new warning, but the universe underlining what I already know is happening in my life right now.
The dragonflies swirling around me as the storm approached felt like active messengers rather than background scenery. Folklore says dragonflies sense rain before it comes, and spiritually they’re seen as bridges between worlds — fitting, given how thin the veil has felt since Jill passed and since Lucas arrived. They showed up right as everything else was going quiet, which tracks with the Sun and Sowilo energy from my recent reading: even when the outer world dims, there’s a light still moving through it.
Racing the storm and sheltering under the trees mirrors the Four of Swords and Eight of Cups from my last spread almost exactly — needing rest, needing to walk away from what’s draining me, but still trying to protect myself along the way rather than just standing exposed. The trees gave partial cover; I still got wet. That feels honest. Protection isn’t always total, but it’s real.
Making it to the door just before the rain poured is the part I keep coming back to. It’s the Anchor energy — steady effort getting me somewhere safe — right after all that Tower/Nine of Swords tension of the past week. I didn’t beat the storm entirely, but I beat the worst of it.
Reflection: This walk feels like a physical echo of the Magician, Sun, and Othala reversed themes — I have the power to move quickly and protect myself (Magician), there’s still light guiding me home even when the foundation feels shaky (Sun/Sowilo), and I’m literally outrunning an old “home” structure trying to catch up with me (Othala rev, storm at my heels).
Card pulled to close the entry: If I were to draw one more card for tomorrow, I’d want it to be the Star — hope after the storm, the quiet clarity that comes once the rain has finally passed.
