"Very superstitious. Writings on the wall"So goes the opening line of the Stevie Wonder song Superstition. If you were to ask me if I am a superstitious person, I'd prefer to think that I'm not, but that's just not entirely true. Regardless of how silly I think the connection between certain objects or actions and subsequent events might be, there is no denying that my behaviour occasionally reflects a somewhat rooted belief that there are indeed potential consequences worthy of caution.
Frank and I recently found ourselves in the clothing section of a store, where I was browsing the sale racks for bargains. He and I have very different tastes in what we each deem attractive colours and styles, and I generally reject the garments that he might pull from the rack as a possible addition to my wardrobe. I found very few items that I thought were worth their marked-down cost, and my eye began to wander toward the regularly-priced clothing. I had just selected a top when Frank came up to me with a simple, but attractive sweatshirt in my size, which carried a final price of $3. I promptly put it back on the rack.
Me: I do like it but it's navy blue.
Frank: It's a great price and a good colour for you.
Me: You've never seen me in this colour before but yes, I agree. I like how I look in navy but it's always been bad luck for me.
Frank: Maybe it's time you started making it a good luck colour...
I considered it briefly, but left the sweatshirt behind.
Thinking back to when navy blue became a bad luck colour for me, I realized it hadn't always been so. I had a short string of unfortunate situations about ten years ago, which prompted me to connect them to a particular top I'd been wearing each time. That association led to my attributing my misfortunes to the piece of clothing. Eventually, I took it a step further when another, similarly-shaded garment also coincided with a bad event. The final straw came a few years later when I decided that my thinking was nonsense, and I purchased a navy blue t-shirt. The first day I wore it, another "bad thing" happened, and rather than add the shirt to my laundry that day, I simply tossed it out in the trash instead. I've never bought any tops in that colour since.
Generally, I'm a reasonably logical and analytical person and I know that superstition is mostly born of fear, so you'd think that long before now, I'd have considered the source of allowing this to dictate my behaviour. But it was only this morning, when I thought back to an event in the middle of a winter's night when I was a child, that a connection was made.
When I was about five or six, we lived in a small, wonderful, old apartment building near the corner of our street. Occupying that corner, was a similar complex opposite our north-facing windows, with nothing more than a narrow lane-way separating the two structures. Early one morning, I was awakened by the overhead light shining into my eyes, and by my mother's hushed but panicked voice. "Get up quickly! There's a fire."
I tried to make sense of my surroundings. Everything appeared normal except that my mother was holding my coat and a pair of slacks. She was urging me to rouse and put them on over my blue, floral pajamas. She hurriedly helped me into the clothing, grabbed my hand and ushered my sister and me down the hallway to the front door. As I glanced to my right, my sister's bedroom window had an intense orange glow and I could hear sirens approaching from the distance. My grandmother lived with us, and she was cautiously making her way toward the exit, guided by my father. He had our pet parakeet's covered cage in hand as we left the apartment and descended the three flights of stairs.
The fire did its damage to the building across the lane but thankfully, there were no injuries. Our own windows had been hot to the touch, and the ivy on our walls was badly singed but our building escaped flame. By daylight, we were back inside our home.
I remember seeing the gutted apartment with its blackened windows by the light of day. Long icicles hung from the roof, balconies and each visible doorway and window. The smell of smoke permeated our home for weeks. I remember thinking that I would not like a repeat of those frightening events anytime soon, and opted very consciously to select different pajamas to wear for sleeping over the next several nights. Weeks had passed when I realized that the blue, flowered ensemble in question was never to be found again. I had to wonder if my mother had also decided that they were bad luck, and discarded them shortly after the fire. Most likely, I had probably outgrown them and they were simply weeded from my drawer along with other clothing shortly afterward, but that was what I believed at the time.
Fast forward almost fifty years, and I'm still making illogical connections between clothing and negative events, so I'm thinking that maybe it's time to put this silly notion of "bad luck" to rest. A colour can not manipulate the world around me, nothing bad will happen because of what I choose to wear, and I really like navy blue. So the next time I go shopping for clothes, I'm going to purchase at least one sweatshirt or tee in that colour to prove that I can free myself from the burden of superstition. And nothing bad will happen.
But, keep your fingers crossed just in case...
A few hours after writing this post, I found a dead Blue Jay on my driveway - a small pool of blood around its head. Doesn't that just sound like an omen of some sort? I'm going to take it as a sign that I'm on the right track in not allowing this superstition to rule me any longer.
Below are some photos which were taken over the past week or two. Along with my usual descriptions, I've included a reference to a superstition for each one. I hope you enjoy them.
Superstition tells us that a wish made on the first robin of spring will be granted.
A baker's dozen is the widely-feared number thirteen.
If a farmer could see the sun shine through the branches of an apple tree on Christmas Day, this could be taken as a sign that the following summer would provide a good yield of crops.
Most coconuts have three eyes but rare One-eyed coconuts are considered by some cultures as a bringer of good-luck and prosperity.
As kids, a common saying to express excitement for an others good fortune was "You lucky duck!"
Before leaving on a semi-lengthy drive, Frank touches the feather he keeps on his rear-view mirror for a safe journey.
I imagine that mink are unlucky animals since their fur is in such demand.
Some say that the colour of a cooked Goose's breastbone can predict the weather for the following year.
It seems there's an Italian superstition that frowns upon toasting with with water, or attempting to "clink" with plastic cups.
It's considered bad luck to kill a seagull (particularly for the gull).
Many people hope to ward off bad luck or tempting the fates by knocking on wood. I don't think that knocking on a Wood Duck would count.What superstitions do you believe in - if only for fun?
