Every time I cross a bridge over water, I throw some money in. Just the lowest denomination coin that I have, but I do it. If I’m perfectly honest, I can’t even tell you why, but I do it. Just as I’m walking across, I take the coin from my pocket and I flip it into the water. I suppose that I do it as a mark of respect for Lady Luck, and possibly Poseidon.
As things go, I’ve just always done it. I walk, I take the coin from my pocket, inspect it to make sure that it is an appropriate coin and nothing special or flash. I mean, I pay my respects and all but really interesting coins are mine. So as things go, I suppose I’m moderately pious. A lapsed superstitionist. And then I flick it into whichever river I’m crossing. For luck, or for… Something.
Part of me has always decided that there was some kind of river spirit, who would grant me luck should I show some small offering. But I was always dubious of that. Each river having a spirit indicates a hierarchy, where the big rivers like the Thames and the Severn would have the chief spirits, and the lesser rivers, the brooks and the streams would be further down the pecking order. Can you imagine it? How harsh would that be for a little village stream?
I also once had an incident where I nearly hit a rower. A two pence piece, neatly flicked from a bridge, landed next to their boat. They were understandably upset by this fact, having nearly been attacked by a flying two pence. Luckily for me, I could run away on land and they couldn’t catch me, trapped as they were by a river.
All in all, this is my superstition. It may well have cost me tens of pounds over the years, but it’s alright for me. It works. Well, it doesn’t as I’m not exactly the most lucky person in the world, but it does something.
The Idiot In Tin Foil