11 December 2023 (winter mist)
Kristen Lindquist
winter mist anticipating a swan
Book of Days
BOOK OF DAYS: A POET AND NATURALIST TRIES TO FIND POETRY IN EVERY DAY
Sign up on the Contact Me page
Filtering by Tag: swan
November 24: Swan dream
Kristen Lindquist
Last night I dreamt a large white bird flew overhead. At first I thought it might be a Whooping Crane, and I was very excited, but it flew so close that I could see its face: not a crane, but a swan. The bill had a very distinctive yellow and black pattern which, in my dream, at least, led me to recognize it as a Tundra Swan, a very unusual bird to appear in this part of Maine. (In real life, this species has a black bill completely unlike that of the bird in my dream.) Seeing a rare species combined with the large bird's nearness, the intimate look, was thrilling in the dream, and when I awoke, felt somehow auspicious, as well.
A fun website that describes itself as "The doorway to signs and symbolic meanings" tells me, among other interpretations: "Fittingly, the Celtic goddess Brigid is also associated with the swan as her grace is expressed with equal elegance in the form of writing (poetry) and song." I like that connection, of course, because Brigid is the patron saint/goddess of poetry.
This thought resonated with me, as well: "In dreams, the swan asks us to spread our wings and take flight into our waking dreams. She also encourages us to strengthen our relationships, as well as make new, long-lasting bonds with people whom we admire." This seemed especially apt as my husband and I had just had dinner with a couple whom we've gotten to know better only recently, and whom we hope to spend more time with.
Cold morning sky, white
as the swan in my dream--
inspire me.
A fun website that describes itself as "The doorway to signs and symbolic meanings" tells me, among other interpretations: "Fittingly, the Celtic goddess Brigid is also associated with the swan as her grace is expressed with equal elegance in the form of writing (poetry) and song." I like that connection, of course, because Brigid is the patron saint/goddess of poetry.
This thought resonated with me, as well: "In dreams, the swan asks us to spread our wings and take flight into our waking dreams. She also encourages us to strengthen our relationships, as well as make new, long-lasting bonds with people whom we admire." This seemed especially apt as my husband and I had just had dinner with a couple whom we've gotten to know better only recently, and whom we hope to spend more time with.
Cold morning sky, white
as the swan in my dream--
inspire me.
October 9: Northern Cross
Kristen Lindquist
On Friday night when we returned home late from dinner, I paused outside the house to admire the clear, star-filled sky. The streetlight that usually floods the front of our house with light is out, so now, when the weather allows, we've actually been able to fully appreciate the stars.
We picked out Jupiter to the southeast over Mount Battie, its steady light distinguishing this bright planet from our brightest stars. And as I looked up over our house, a set of stars called the Northern Cross poised upright over our roof. I pointed it out to my husband, told him our house was blessed. We had just been engaged in a long dinner conversation with friends about (mostly unusual or extreme) religious beliefs and practices. "Is that some sort of story?" he asked, thinking that I was noting a Christian folk belief. "That's my story," I told him. "I just decided that."
The Northern Cross is actually encompassed by a constellation long recognized (for a millenium or so) in the Western world as Cygnus, the Swan. Its brightest star Deneb is at the top of the cross, and is one of three stars that makes up another asterism known as the Summer Triangle, along with Altair (in Aquila, the Eagle) and Vega (in Lyra, the Lyre). Deneb is also considered to be the tail of the Swan, so this bird too is headed south, pointing the way for all those living birds migrating overhead in the cloudless dark.
We picked out Jupiter to the southeast over Mount Battie, its steady light distinguishing this bright planet from our brightest stars. And as I looked up over our house, a set of stars called the Northern Cross poised upright over our roof. I pointed it out to my husband, told him our house was blessed. We had just been engaged in a long dinner conversation with friends about (mostly unusual or extreme) religious beliefs and practices. "Is that some sort of story?" he asked, thinking that I was noting a Christian folk belief. "That's my story," I told him. "I just decided that."
The Northern Cross is actually encompassed by a constellation long recognized (for a millenium or so) in the Western world as Cygnus, the Swan. Its brightest star Deneb is at the top of the cross, and is one of three stars that makes up another asterism known as the Summer Triangle, along with Altair (in Aquila, the Eagle) and Vega (in Lyra, the Lyre). Deneb is also considered to be the tail of the Swan, so this bird too is headed south, pointing the way for all those living birds migrating overhead in the cloudless dark.