Looking up, just now, I noticed that a board on the roof-mounted window in the western, upper room of this little house's more recent addition is stained with a trapezoidal mark that, if only slightly, resembles the head of Darth Vader (from the film series called Star Wars by Spielberg and Lucas). Then, looking at it more closely, I can make out additional watermarks, on the boards beneath it, that could be mistaken for a body and a flared-out cape, with what could be a type of sword where the right hand would be if this were an actual depiction of a lava-scorched Anakin Skywalker in his life-support suit. Can I now expect acolytes and fans of the Star Wars films to come flocking to my house to see for themselves the likeness of a Sith lord that seems to have appeared as if by magic on the sun-beaten windows of a dilapidated hunting-shack? For years, now, I have made sure to live under the watchful gaze of owls; as birds that represent wise, crafty goddess Athena, I have placed statues or pictures of owls in areas where I frequently live and work, hoping thereby to invoke the blessings, and to curry the favor, of she who once championed such legendary persons as Odysseus, and Hercules. To find suddenly that another god is blessing this humble abode's unused places lifts my heart with song, and puts a smile on my faces.
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