The mute dance of Time

Today marks the anniversary of Christopher Columbus' landing on the shores of the New World.
On that day, that October 12th, the fate of millions - on both sides of the Atlantic - changed its course forever.

In less than an hour, this date itself will detach from the evergreen tree of the NOW and silently join the myriads of fallen leaves that we call history - the history that we know mostly by numbers, figures, ciphers, dried-up characters on paper.
The new day will mark another anniversary: the anniversary of my only brother's birth. It will be, once again, the anniversary of the momentous day that changed my world forever.

Even if you happen to suffer from triskaidekaphobia, this is one thirteenth-of-the-month when it should be safe to breathe easily.
Well, at least as far as astrologers are concerned.
They will tell you - making considerable fuss about it - that Jupiter is turning "direct" on October 13th.
(In case you're wondering: it wasn't "indirect" before - it was retrograde, i.e. moving "backwards". And that, of course, only apparently.)
It's supposed to be a considerable event - and a "good" one, too. In astrology, Jupiter is known as the "great benefactor", the planet that brings good luck and expansion and joy.

I hope it brings all of that - and more - to my brother, M.
May his heart and mind sing and dance to the music of the spheres, open to the light and warmth of genuine love - of everything that is good and beautiful and true.

And may he remember that he has a sister.

And may you who are now reading this remember the warmth, the innocent joy of hope, now long forgotten, that seemed unforgettable at the time.
It was more true than your - or their - forgetfulness ever will be.
It was living; oblivion is not.