While it’s completely illogical (captain), I like signs, symbols and portents. Perhaps I don’t go as far as plunging a pin onto a page of the Bible, but if, for example, I’m wondering if I want a drink and then, out of the blue, Ed says – would you like a drink, I’d be inclined to take that as a sign that I should in fact have a drink. Or if I’m trying to decide what to have for dinner and steak is on sale, that’s a sign. Admittedly, these are sort of everyday signs of the type that might lead you to think that I love an exterior excuse to justify doing what I really want to do. Mmm. Maybe.

But tonight there is a sign of the proper old fashioned blood and ashes kind, a real Mayan, Druidic, Pharonic torches and sigils kind of sign — a lunar eclipse. It doesn’t matter if it’s a sign for good or ill or great huge goat sacrifices. It’s a sign. A moment. Something that feels irrational, momentous, different. Portentous.

And I’m going to take it as a sign that darkness passes and that even in the penumbra, there are interesting colors, beauty and the promise of emergence. That’s a good sign.