Late one spring afternoon a few years ago, I braked for a large turkey that had cautiously stepped into the street. Seeing that the coast was clear, it dipped back into a patch of tall grass and quickly emerged with chicks, no more than a couple of weeks old. As the seven birds filed across, it felt like a sign. Less than a minute later, with my teenager looking up possible meanings of birds in your path, a rabbit darted in front of us. We could hardly believe the timing. Then, a second one appeared, like an exclamation point to ensure the message hadn’t been missed.
While seeing either animal isn’t uncommon in Virginia, the double encounter felt too unlikely to be random — a nudge from somewhere to pay special attention. Legends have it that turkeys are signs of bounty and blessings, and rabbits bring good fortune. That summer promised to be an anxious one, with each member of my family awaiting a big decision on either sports, school or work. So I was in the market for a little luck when symbols for it found me.
Psychologists call this a meaningful coincidence, experiences where chance events feel connected or symbolically significant. One study notes they’re most common among people in stressful situations and those who consider themselves spiritual or religious. That made me an easy mark twice over. I was raised on folklore and parables that give special meaning to the things happening everywhere: Cardinals appear when angels are near, and double rainbows are a sign of heavenly promise. Neither are rare, but sometimes their appearance feels tailor-made to the moment. For some, our roadside encounter might’ve been unremarkable, forgotten by day’s end. But for me, dismissing it as coincidence was selling it short.
That doesn’t mean every apparent sign carries the same weight. I routinely catch my birth date on the clock, a happy coincidence that feels more like a nod than a message. Sometimes a text from a friend arrives the second I notice it’s been a while since we last talked, probably serendipity more than anything else. But even when chance events can be easily explained away or occur without any obvious meaning, they can feel noteworthy nonetheless.
Years ago, I planted a southern magnolia in memory of my mother and took a picture of the sky from the tree’s vantage point, as if trying to get a glimpse of her looking down over it. A small green haze appeared in the photo, which I immediately attributed to her presence. Hoping to get confirmation, I sent the image to family and friends, pointing out the anomaly. A quick search online, however, revealed that the green marking was just a lens flare — a reflection of the sun trapped in the camera. In my eyes, though, the one in my photo was different from all the examples in the search. When I mentioned it to a friend who’d also lost her mother, she asked me, “What do you think it means?” I’d hoped it was a sign, to which she replied, “Then that’s exactly what it is.”