I read that, in the Chinese Zodiac, 2026 is the year of the fire horse. I accepted this with half-interest; I’m preoccupied with casting my own runes via the birding tradition I’ve shared in years past and am in fact writing this on new year’s day in a perch of watchfulness. I haven’t seen a single bird out my studio window or on the back porch of our home this morning. This is unusual, as the trees that line our backyard are something of a bird sanctuary, but it is very cold and very windy, and nature has a way of being rational and responsive to it own conditions. Certainly it won’t bend to my self-serving will. I have heard a lot of crows (someone, and I think it was Claire Keegan in Small Things Like These, described crows as sounding generally dissatisfied with the state of the world, and it is so true — their caw telegraphs harsh disapproval), but this isn’t the same thing as seeing one. So here I am, half-watching the trees; half-pawing at the concept of the fire horse.
I immediately think of an imagistic poem by Joy Harjo that I find myself returning to in my poetry anthology every few months. I pull it off the shelf and read it, as unsettled by its visuals today as I was the first time I read it last year. It’s a haunting poem, superficially simple and repetitive, with a galloping anaphora: the phrase “she had horses” (or variant “she had some horses”) opens every single line in the poem. These horses are good and evil, dark and light, gentle and violent; they carry and shapeshift in meaning throughout. Harjo paints with metaphor rather than simile, the body of the horse melting straight into some other image, which melts into a third and different visual: i.e., “She had horses who were bodies of sand,” “She had horses who were maps drawn of blood,” “She had horses who were skins of ocean water.” It’s an urgent alchemy, the animals becoming other things, and those things becoming other things. The twist of the kaleidoscope. The corkscrew into the grotesque. A Braque painting in poetic form: the forelock, the hoof visualized from multiple angles.
It is a poem of multiplicity, and the discomfort and beauty of realizing that our alternities don’t necessarily fit together. Many things can be true at once, and those meanings can unfurl and simultaneously in their vastly different directions.
This is, I think, a good chime for the new year: Let the year be what it is. Let it be many things. Let it be every kind of animal. Release the tongue from the roof of your mouth; relax the vise-like grip on the day.
What does the poem draw from you?
Sunday Shopping.
+A gorgeous bone inlay mirror. I’ve been shopping for mirrors for my daughter’s room — a full-length one so she can see herself getting dressed and a new one for over her dresser. I love this bone inlay one but it’s not big enough…
+More finds for home: patterned nightstand; a perfect rug for my closet; our favorite gooseneck kettle in new colors; a stand for your headphones (everything in its place!)
+Gorgeous knits on sale: this cloud turtleneck from Everlane; this Guest in Residence cashmere hoodie.
+I love the skincare brand True Botanicals and just pulled out my beloved bronzing drops (mix a drop into your moisturizer — doesn’t smell at all, just gives you a faint kiss of sun) as we enter the palest season of my skincare journey. Also intrigued by their radiance oil.
+Designer shoes to consider: Maysales, on sale, in the perfect color; a fun new sneaker from Chloe.
+My favorite ecru jeans. Looks for less here and here.
+Good time to stock up on basics at J. Crew.
+A pretty and highly-pigmented blush for the new year.
BONE INLAY MIRROR // HEADPHONE STAND // EVERLANE TURTLENECK SWEATER // MOTHER HALF PIPE JEANS // TRUE BOTANICALS RADIANCE OIL AND BROnZING DROPS // MANOLO MAYSALE MULES // GUEST IN RESIDENCE HOODIE (ON SALE!) // GRAY TEE // A PERFECT RUG FOR MY CLOSET // CHLOE SNEAKERS // FELLOW KETTLE // PATTERNED NIGHTSTAND // RARE BEAUTY BLUSH
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I’m curious if you have a source for interpreting what your first bird of the year means? I saw mine today – a woodpecker!
Hi Natasha! I don’t but I would start by reading the entry in the Sibley book of birds (or via google search) and then do some free-writing on what the description brings to mind for you…! For me, the woodpecker might suggest perseverance, rhythm, looking beneath the surface of things / finding reward beneath the surface of things, determination!
xx