Nine cups, polished and golden, pose atop a draped display, looking for all the world like the candles on a birthday cake. Go ahead, blow them out and make a wish! For indeed, we have arrived at last at the famous "card of wishes". Something magical is about to happen (though as always in magic, the causal mechanism is shrouded from view). The 9 of Cups is the Lord of Happiness - for what is happier than the moment when one believes one's fondest wish is about to be fulfilled? Happier, you could even say, than the fulfillment itself - for in the anticipation lies much of the sweetness.

Something most peculiar is going on in the 7 of Swords. Furtive posture, fuzzy hat, tiptoeing on stocking feet - everything about this guy screams "Funny business afoot!"  Even amongst the sword cards, the 7 is singular, its bright yellow backdrop an oddball among the overcast or ominously dark night skies of the rest of the sequence. Its sword-siblings are somber, despairing, cruel - but the 7 of Swords has a sense of humor, if a warped one. It's definitely the banana in this fruit basket.

Ah, the 6 of Swords - an oasis in a suit commonly believed to be full of rancor, fear, grief, and conflict. Why? Because swords are the suit of the mind, and the mind creates suffering. Have you noticed that in the minor sword cards, no one's eyes are open? With the possible exception of the 5, they're blindfolded, or shut, or covered.  The mind misperceives things. But in the 6, someone is seeing clearly and navigating right for the destination. His back is to us, so we can't tell, but he follows the guiding star.

What is going on here!? As we arrive in the Aquarius half of Saturn's domain, the 5 of Swords reveals to us the aftermath of what looks like an extremely uncomfortable confrontation. Someone has won, but at what price? Behind him, his foes stand stunned, calculating, or grieving, like victims of a mugging.  Now what will they do? Hurt feelings radiate from the scene, as if carried by a cold and shifting wind. The winner's smirk suggests that in the thrill of victory, he has yet to comprehend the gravity of the good will he has lost. This is what I call "the card of winners and losers". Whatever game we play, someone must win and someone must lose, and we all have feelings about that.

Meet the Lord of Power. Money is on his mind, in his heart, beneath his feet. He faces forward unflinchingly, for if he blinks, someone might filch a coin! People often say that wealth is freedom, as in "financial independence".  Does he look free to you?

The occultists of the Golden Dawn called this card "Earthly Power." As if, our kingly friend retorts, there were any other kind!  But we modern readers are often quick to see the Scrooge in the 4 of Pentacles.  As always, there is more to explore than initially meets the eye.

The deceptively straightforward 3 of Pentacles harbors a secret in the recesses of its two darkened doorways. Behind Door #1, the Tower! Behind, Door #2, the Devil! Not since the 5 of Cups, where the Tower met Death, have two baleful majors joined forces so powerfully. But here, instead of the Grim Reaper, the Tower meets the Master of Strategy - whose plans are set on winning, winning, so much winning!  Why is the Tower's martial force so different in character here? We'll get to that in a moment.

With the December solstice we greet the Lord of Change - the Cosmic Juggler, the Lord of the jovial Forces of Life standing before the saturnine Gates of Matter.   For those of us in the northern hemisphere, he is like a spark of light struck in flinty darkness on the longest night of the year. For those of us in the south, it is the longest day. But whether we are observing a winter or a summer solstice, all of us have reached one end of a tether. The earth inches forward in its orbit and, almost imperceptibly, our allotments of shadow and light exchange places.

We have arrived at the final decan of Sagittarius. The northern sunlight is steadily diminishing, to reach its nadir at the conclusion of this period. The arrow propelled with ruthless swiftness by the archer's strength, buries its shaft in the bulls' eye with a decisive, fatal thunk. Half the zodiacal year is spent, and we shall see no more of the fiery suit of wands till spring. Everywhere, folks are straining at max capacity. Somewhere along the line - probably back in the 7 - someone said "Failure is not an option!" and now, everyone is paying for it.