With the crows as my constant companions, I have traded the quick flutter of daily draws for a single, sweeping weekly Crow Spread, so we can read the sky as a whole rather than one cloud at a time and step into each Monday armed with a fuller sense of the forces gathering on the horizon.
Eight cards unfurl like ink-tipped feathers: the first settles in the heart, revealing the core current that underlies every choice; the second hovers in the present winds, shaping the atmosphere you will breathe; the third shows the draft that can either lift or stall your wings; the fourth circles the hidden roost of hopes and fears; the fifth lands on solid ground to offer practical grounding or warn of shaky footing; the sixth caws from the past with a lesson you once earned and may need again; the seventh arrives unbidden, an external gust that can hinder or help; and the eighth glides toward the horizon, hinting at the most likely destination if you follow the signs. Let us stand beneath their beating wings and listen.
Morning haze draped the treetops when the crows began their brisk debate, wings cutting quick arcs through milk-blue sky. I shuffled until their cawing softened, then eight cards fluttered to the table like ink-stained feathers. They write a living letter to the week ahead, inviting you to drink from new wells of feeling and steer your own vessel through shifting mist.
Collective currents are restless. Many of us crave renewal yet hesitate at the edge of the unknown. The Ace of Cups is a fountain at the center of this spread, promising emotional nourishment if we let it flow. Around that fountain swirl tests of clarity, recovery, instinct, and decisive movement. Walk with the crows, listen to every croak, and the landscape of the next seven days will reveal hidden footpaths instead of blind alleys.