I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people.
I thought, "This is what it is to be happy."
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
As a Libra, I'm one of the air signs. I know, I know. You're thinking astrology is a bunch of bunk. But, it's actually been around since ancient times, a common link between the patterns in the heavens and life on earth. Much can be garnered by understanding nature and the reflections it has on us as individuals. Anyway, I'm happy to finally throw open a window and breath glorious fresh, cool air. There's nothing I adore more than air in my face, in my hair and wafting through an open window, that thin, cool air, that lets me hear the melancholy whistle of the 3:30 a.m. train in Linworth. Summer is like purgatory for me. I loathe claustrophobic, humid air and actually have to sleep with a fan pointed directly at my face on summer nights.
Air signs are said to be flexible, like the breeze. It's true, I like a fresh perspective on just about anything, and am forever changing things, including my mind. After shopping at a certain grocery store for six months, I switch. Nearly every month, four days before the new moon, I spin off into rearranging mode at the manor. Next time you visit, I promise, nothing will be in the same spot. I thrive on reading new poets, trying new recipes and meeting new people. As you well know, rearranging my blog template and header is a favorite pastime.
Speaking of blogging, the blog community has certainly been a great conduit for airy inclinations, since air signs are said to be communicators, story tellers, and link people socially. There's nothing I enjoy more than hopping aboard my magic little cyberspace carpet and breezing around the bloggyhood, sharing a manor ghost story or a new willow poem, or two, with my friends.
Could this be the reason I dreamed of flying as a child, and why my worst nightmares are of tornadoes, now that I'm grown?