Sunday, 23 April 2017

Taking the Prosaic Option.

I have a small wind chime which I picked up from somewhere or other many years ago. The weighted piece at the bottom is a black disc with the following symbol printed on it in gold:

I assumed from the outset that it was the Chinese symbol for wood, although I didn’t know why. It just seemed right for some reason.

Today, as part of the reparation work following the demolition of my greenhouse, I hung it on the corner of the new bird table, there to tinkle its quiet little tune to the birdies and the plants growing underneath. And while I was at it I thought I’d Google ‘Chinese symbols’ to finally establish what it meant. Lo and behold, it’s the symbol for ‘tree’ or ‘wood.’

‘Ah,’ I thought, ‘how interesting. How could I have known that?’

My first thought was that it was a distant memory from a past life. My second was that I’m psychic. My third was ‘Maybe it’s because it looks like a tree…’

Mmm. Life just turned dull again.

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