Of Myths and Constellations

I have a guardian angel.  Well, OK, I guess he’s not exactly an angel, but he has been in the sky for thousands of years.  He’s one of the oldest men around.  Or oldest three men around, if you live in France or South Africa.  He also doubles as a canoe if you live in Australia.  Now how many men can you say that about?  He’s a smart handsome guy, and he doubles as a canoe!

But seriously.  Orion has been showing up in some strange places lately, and I love to think of him as my good luck charm.  Every location he’s shown up has been somehow injected with wonderful for me, and it’s nice to look at his off-kilter frame shining brightly in the deepest blue of the night sky and know that good things are happening. 

It’s funny, a few years ago I couldn’t pick Orion out of the sky if you paid me.  I could find the dippers, if you gave me a few minutes, and the Milky Way, if you took me to a dim enough location.  I remember one night, staring up at the millions of twinkling stars, cool dewy grass beneath my bare feet.  My mother, who seemed so tall and adult to me, pointing out the constellations she knew.  The crash-hush of the ocean played in the background as we stood between the two red ancestral houses and gazed at the sky.  I guess he must have been one of that bunch, but it wasn’t until I was practicaly an adult myself that I could point him out to anyone, as my mother had to me.

I started seeing him over Brian’s house when we were dating.  He hung out there, reposing lazily on his side over the roof of the house, twinkling and winking at me as I emerged from the car.  He’s sometimes over my mother’s house too, when I need a good cheer-up.  But right now, if you drove into my driveway, you would see how he shines like a beacon above my new little house.  I turned around the other night at work, waiting for the parade to come gliding in, and he was there too: directly in the path of the bright bulbed performers.  He had that look on his face too, the one where he seems imensly proud of himself.  Like he’s the cleverest thing around to have thought of being there, of all places.

It seems like I have been in a world of myths lately.  Between all the research my lovely husband has been doing, and all the fairy tales I’ve been reading, Orion arose at the perfect time.  The Greek Gods killed him for trying to rape Artemis a few ages ago, and I like to think that he’s trying to mend his ways now.  If he keeps watch over me, and assures that no harm comes to me, maybe his redemption will be forthcoming.  

 OK, OK, I know I’m a little insane sometimes.  I promise to lay off the fairy tales for a while.  But still, it’s a lovely thought, don’t you think? 

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