An Astrotale – Saturn in Cancer

Astrotales personify the planet in the differnt signs in order to make it easier to understand how they operate. For example, if you have Saturn in Cancer in your chart, you may find this story enlightening…

The old man with the crooked stick shifts uncomfortably, pushes a pile of magazines from the sofa and plumps up a sagging cushion.

My back always hurts in this damp sign, he mutters to himself. Damp, watery Cancer, damp with tears and rain and other assorted liquids. The landscape of the crab never felt as welcoming to him as it did to the others. Even Mars could make himself at home here, busy defending the home front – but even he, Saturn thought, might have some trouble sharing this soggy sign with its incumbent.

She was cooking again. Always cooking – making enough food to feed an army, far too much for one lean visitor such as himself.

She was perfectly at home, of course, and trying to make the best of an uncomfortable situation. If he moved some of the clutter, he could see her peeling apples for a pie, her rosy cheeks flushed from the kutchen’s heat, her loose garments begging for tiny hands to clutch at them.

How were they going to manage this uneasy cohabitation? They were so different. He ruled the opposite landscape to hers, cool, dry and efficient. She lived in a glorious mess of emotions, memories, dreams and  apple pie.

Maybe he was supposed to bring order to the little one’s life. To repress some of her wilder imaginings, help her to focus and prioritise. But howq could he do that without depressing her utterly? He depressed himself sometimes.

So damp – he shifted again, and a pile of books fell over. That would be that little wretch Mercury, esconced in Leo, and ready to fill her head with grand ideas. If he was in those golden fields now, he could make sure her library included some excellent reading, he could help that fledgling mind grow and mature.

“Have you seen the cinnamon?” The Moon Goderss appeared in the doorway, trailing aromas of baby powder, spices and fresh green apples. Her hands were floury, she looked utterly relaxed and in her element.

“Aaah – what does it look like?” he hazarded.

She frowned at him, and dusted flour from her skirts.

“It looks like – oh, never mind. Can’t you make yourself useful around here?”

“I could tidy up,” he said hopefully.

“Don’t you touch anything, I’ll never find it again. Go chop wood or something. The fire is dying.”

Chop wood – with my back? But he said nothing, just got slowly to his feet, allowing every muscle and joint to creak noisily, and went outside.

The country of the crab was beautiful, he had to admit. Water was its most obvious feature – a river slowly gently through the distant hills,  winding its way down to the great ocean beyond. The ocean was rightfully Piscean territory, of course, but the country of the crab fed it regularly with a river of dreams and memories, always hungrily making its way toward those shores.

We could build a nice mill down there, or maybe a small town, he thought. Once that Moon Mama’s got her crab claws into the little one, there’ll be enough babies to populate a small town, mark my words.

He sat by the woodpile, warming his old bones in the sun, and thought of the little one, the new soul who would walk through all these lands with them. Everyone was in place to welcome her, Mercury, the Golden lady Venus and dark Pluto enjoying the golden dawn of Leo country, Jove and his lady Juno, together in the soft Libran Landscape and Uranus relaxing in the country of the twins with the Dragon before the real work began.

In the far distance, Saturn could here the sound of chopping, and a slow smile spread across his lean face.

Mars was in Virgo territory, practical and energetic – and he was chopping wood.

Astrotale by Gail Kavanagh

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~ by Heather Blakey on January 27, 2012.

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