StarIQ.com's Cosmic Correspondent Kim Rogers-Gallagher has been invited to the planets' secret hangout. She's the first astrologer to enter this starry domain, and reports regularly on her findings there.

Cosmic Cafe Part Thirteen:
Saturn, the Elderly Wise-Woman

I got to the Café around noon, but was surprised to see that it wasn't open yet. Or was it? I tried the door, then saw the sign. "Closed 'till You're Done with Saturn," it read. I smiled. Had to be Uncle Jupiter—bless his heart.

I turned to the door on the right, the one that Saturn—or whoever that woman I had spoken with—had told me to use. It was heavy, wooden and old, and didn't fit in at all with the neon lights in the window of the Café right next door. It was obviously quite weathered, and had an air of "use" about it. The knob jiggled, but turned easily. Suddenly I realized I hadn't knocked—and you know how Saturn is about manners—and boundaries. I backed up a step, closed the door, and knocked. A voice from within said "Come in, dear. Again."

I could feel the color rise in my cheeks. I had already done something "wrong"—and I hadn't even been in the building yet. I felt an immediate urge to run, but took a deep breath, and went in.

Suddenly, I was transported into what seemed to be an old southwestern home. The walls were clay—that wonderful tan color—and the floor was made of crushed stones laid out in lovely astrological patterns. I closed the door behind me and began slowly walking down a short hallway to what I knew was Saturn's office. The floor beneath my feet was deep blue lapis lazuli with gorgeous golden flecks—designed to look like the Milky Way. I certainly hadn't expected Saturn's place to be so luxurious. But then again, I reminded myself, he—or she—was in Taurus  at the moment, the sign that loves creature comforts like no other. Little did I know that everything I had ever thought about Saturn was about to change—especially Saturn in Taurus.

I approached the end of the hall, where two huge wooden doors stood open. The room was circular and barely furnished. There were two more large doors on the opposite side of the room made of what seemed to be stained glass, and beyond those doors was a lush, beautiful garden. I stood in the center of the room, awed by the rich, fertile beauty. But where was Saturn?

Suddenly, an old woman appeared in the doorway in front of me. Her hair was long—to her waist, in fact—and startlingly white. She wore a long, loose dress, a blend of rich greens and browns—and she was barefoot. She reminded me of a Native American grandmother I'd seen once while passing through New Mexico. If this was Saturn, she was certainly easier to take than the military man I'd met at the café.

She smiled, and extended a slender, wrinkled hand. I took it—and for the first time in my life, I realized I actually felt comfortable with Saturn. I smiled back. She led me out into the garden with her arm draped through mine, and we took a seat on a stone bench surrounded by huge hibiscus blossoms of every imaginable color. I took a deep breath, and waited.

"Is this better?" she said. I nodded, smiling. "Good. I wanted to speak with you, but I didn't want you to be intimidated. We have things to discuss, my dear." She patted my hand and looked directly into my face. I was touched by the kindness and concern I saw there—in fact, tears came to my eyes as I looked into hers. I felt safe and protected with this woman, as if no harm could ever come to me while I was with her.

"What is it we need to talk about?" I asked. "Have I done something wrong?"

She shook her head. "No. You've done everything just fine. I wanted you to know that when we last met and I asked you about your work, it was really my concern for your future that made me speak so harshly to you. Do you understand that now?"

I shook my head, and listened closely. "So I'm doing all right?"

"Yes, dear. Just fine, as I said. My only worries are for your future. You're on your own, taking care of yourself, and that's quite a task. I respect you for it. But you need to prepare for winter, and soon. "

"All right," I said. I was awed. Saturn had just told me she respected me. Talk about a job well done. I suddenly felt proud of myself—and confident, too. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to lay the groundwork so that you'll be comfortable in your later years. You have no children and no partner, no home of your own right now. You need to save now, and place your money wisely so that you'll have it when the snows fall. Do you understand?"

Talk about a wake-up call. I certainly did understand. I'm a typical Sagittarius—not exactly famous for my ability to handle finances, in other words. And saving for my "later years,” as she'd said, had never, ever occurred to me, even though I was looking toward my 43rd birthday. "Yes, I do," I answered. "Thank you so much for reminding me."

"It's my job to remind you," she said. "So will you take care of that?"

"Yes, yes. I will." I certainly wasn't going to argue with Saturn—especially when she was in Taurus, the sign that rules finances. She was right.

"All right, then. That's enough of that. Shall we have tea, or do you have to leave?"

"No, no. I'd love to stay a while. Are you sure you have time?"

She nodded, smiling. "My child, I am time. " she stood and walked into the house. "I'll get our tea. You enjoy the garden."

Next Week: Tea in the Garden with Saturn