Portents of doom

Spilled salt and whistling doors: 10 bad omens many people take seriously

Image: Kasturi Roy

Human societies have always been fascinated by what the future might hold—and with this yearning to glimpse what lies beyond the horizon came a host of very strange ideas. From the twitch of a cat's tail to the flight of birds, cultures around the world have interpreted various natural events as imbued with prophetic significance. And many of these foreboding signs were believed to predict misfortune or disaster, often helping people make sense of the unexpected. Join us as we explore 10 of the most notorious bad omens that have instilled fear and superstition throughout the ages.

Image: Kristin O Karlsen

In many cultures, and particularly in Western folklore, a black cat crossing your path is seen as a bad omen. This belief likely stems from the association of black cats with witchcraft during the Middle Ages, when they were often believed to be witches' familiars. However, in some instances, black cats could be considered symbols of good luck, and sailors were known for favoring black cats for company aboard their ships.

While many people today keep black cats as pets and no longer associate them with any superstition, the myths surrounding these felines remain well-known and frequently appear in fiction.

Image: Mick Haupt

Breaking a mirror is said to bring seven years of bad luck, a belief that originated in ancient Rome, where mirrors were seen as portals to the soul. The idea was that damaging one's reflection could harm the spirit or even anger the gods, who were also believed to spy on mortals through mirrors.

To be fair, in antiquity mirrors were difficult to manufacture and considered prized possessions, so it's understandable that various social fears and taboos arose around breaking one. But why seven years of bad luck specifically? Romans believed the body renewed itself every seven years, meaning technically no curse could last longer than that.

Image: Waldemar

The combination of Friday and the number 13 has long been considered particularly unlucky in Western culture, with roots in both Norse mythology and Christian tradition. In Christianity, the Last Supper featured thirteen attendees, with Judas Iscariot's betrayal occurring on a Friday, cementing the date as one of ill fortune.

Similarly, in Norse mythology, twelve gods were feasting in Valhalla when the uninvited trickster god Loki arrived as the thirteenth guest. His presence caused chaos, ultimately leading to the death of Balder, the god of joy. The extent of the myth surrounding the number 13 is such that, even today, some buildings skip the 13th floor entirely, and in the United States alone, nearly 20 million people are estimated to avoid traveling or following their normal routines on this date.

Image: Steve Smith

Crows and ravens have long been associated with various myths and legends throughout the ages. The ancient Romans believed that a crow’s call foretold impending doom, while Celtic traditions linked these birds to battle and death. In the Norse pantheon, Odin was often accompanied by a pair of ravens, who were considered messengers —or sometimes spies—of the gods.

For Native Americans, ravens were often seen as tricksters, much like coyotes, playing pranks on unsuspecting mortals or following their own mysterious designs. These superstitions deserve some credit, as corvids are known to be among the most intelligent species on the planet, with cognitive abilities comparable to those of great apes, according to some scientists.

Image: Lilian Jeane Schiffer

We have co-evolved with dogs to the point where we are highly attuned to their barks, howls, and tail wags—signals that our furry friends use to greet us or even alert us to unseen dangers. However, dogs weren’t always the friendly companions we know today, and there was a time when the howling of wolves in the dark could only mean imminent danger.

So, it should come as no surprise that howling wolves were often interpreted as portentous by ancient cultures. For example, Virgil noted that howling wolves were among the many omens that foretold the assassination of Julius Caesar and the onset of civil strife.

Image: Jason Tuinstra

Spilling salt has been seen as an ill omen for centuries, and even today, some people can’t help but flinch at the sight of a fallen salt shaker. The belief, however, might be rooted in practicality. In ancient times, salt was so valuable that it was often used as payment—hence the origins of words like "salary" or "soldier."

To counteract the bad luck associated with an accidental spill, some believe that tossing a pinch of the spilled salt over the left shoulder can ward off evil spirits. However, the most practical remedy might simply be to gather up as much of the spilled salt as possible and return it to the container.

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In various East Asian cultures, the number 4 is considered highly unlucky because it sounds similar to the word for "death." This aversion has led to buildings skipping the fourth floor and even changing phone numbers to avoid the ominous digit.

While the aversion to the number 4 may seem akin to the fear of 13 in Western cultures, the phobia associated with 4 far surpasses its Western counterpart. It is so deeply ingrained in the culture that even the business world takes significant precautions to avoid the number in any context.

Image: Mandy Ferrer

In Slavic cultures, whistling indoors is often seen as a bad omen, believed to invite misfortune or bad luck into the house. Whistling outdoors, however, is generally considered acceptable. This superstition may have originated from the belief that whistling could summon spirits or disrupt harmony within the home.

Among sailors, whistling aboard a ship was thought to encourage the wind to pick up, which could be either beneficial or detrimental depending on the weather—you might accidentally end up whistling up a storm.

Image: joel herzog

For millennia, strange animal behavior has been seen as an omen of impending misfortune. Interestingly, this superstition may have roots in actual truth, as the phenomenon of animals fleeing or behaving restlessly before natural disasters has been observed repeatedly. And there is ample historical evidence to support this belief.

The Greek historian Thucydides reported in 373 BC that rats, dogs, snakes, and weasels deserted the city of Helice in the days leading up to a catastrophic earthquake, and throughout history animals have been known to predict disasters such as floods, earthquakes, and even volcanic eruptions with remarkable precision. Some scientists even suggest that many animals can instinctively detect minute electromagnetic changes in the atmosphere, which might often precede impending earthquakes and other natural disasters.

Image: Steve Busch

Comets have historically been viewed as bad omens, often seen as harbingers of disaster or significant change. Their bright trails frequently incited panic and hysteria among the public, and recurring comets like Halley's Comet were even linked to the death of kings and other calamities.

More recently, during Halley's Comet's passage in 1910, spectroscopic analysis revealed the presence of the toxic gas cyanogen in the comet’s tail. This led to sensational newspaper reports claiming that the gas would contaminate the atmosphere and potentially extinguish all life on Earth. Despite reassurances from scientists that the gas posed no threat, mass hysteria ensued, leading people to buy gas masks and even "anti-comet pills."

Say it like locals

These are America's most colorful regional expressions and accents

America's regional slang words are as interesting as they are funny. They say a lot about how folks in different corners of the country see the world, and what kind of culture took root there over the years. No accent or phrase is "better" than another; most are just practical, colorful, or a little window into what a community is like. Take "y'all," beloved down South, or "wicked," which New Englanders toss into sentences like seasoning. None of these are used only in the places we mention: they've just made themselves at home there.

This one's everywhere below the Mason-Dixon line, and it's just useful: one word instead of "you guys" or "you all." Southerners use it constantly and unapologetically. Outsiders sometimes mock it as unsophisticated, then quietly start using it themselves within a year of moving South.

Even non-Southern celebrities get caught saying it on camera, then get roasted online, then keep saying it anyway.

"That's wicked good" doesn't mean "evil"; it means "very". Bostonians and their neighbors use it as an all-purpose intensifier. Non-locals find it charming, sometimes exaggeratedly imitating it to poke fun at the accent.

Locals don't care; they'll say "wicked awesome" with total sincerity. It's practically a regional badge of honor, and attempts to phase it out over the decades have, wickedly, failed completely.

Order a "Coke" in Georgia, and you might get asked "what kind?" because down South, "Coke" means any soda. The Midwest says "pop," the coasts say "soda." This sparks genuine, good-natured arguments at family gatherings and road trip stops nationwide. Nobody's ever truly won this debate, and honestly, that's part of the fun.

Both drop their R's, but they don't sound alike: ask any local, and they'll insist theirs is the "normal" one. Bostonians say "cah" for car; New Yorkers say "cawfee" for coffee. Outsiders often can't tell them apart, which mildly offends both sides.

TV and movies love exaggerating these accents, which locals alternately enjoy and find utterly ridiculous.

Life in Michigan's Upper Peninsula produced its own charming dialect, shaped by Finnish immigrants. Locals say "eh" often, eat "pasties" (savory meat pies), and call themselves "Yoopers" with pride.

Downstate Michiganders sometimes tease them as being from the middle of nowhere. Yoopers shrug it off; they've got snow, quiet, and a dialect nobody else can quite replicate.

South Louisiana blends French, Spanish, and African influences into phrases like "making groceries" (grocery shopping) or "lagniappe" (a little something extra). Visitors often find it delightfully musical and confusing in equal measure. Locals wear it proudly, treating their dialect as inseparable from their food, music, and heritage.

Try pronouncing "Natchitoches" correctly on your first attempt; it's a rite of passage.

This is a genuine, full creole language, not just an accent, blending English, Hawaiian, Japanese, and more. Mainlanders visiting sometimes assume it's simply broken English, which locals find both amusing and mildly irritating.

Within Hawaii, pidgin is a point of deep identity and connection. Using it casually, even imperfectly, tends to earn warm smiles rather than criticism.

Texans have a phrase for everything, often laced with dry humor. "Fixin' to" means "about to," while "all hat, no cattle" politely calls someone a fraud. Non-Texans often find these expressions delightfully quotable and borrow them for fun. Texans, meanwhile, consider their vocabulary practically its own dialect, proudly distinct from the rest of the South.

Words like "gnarly," "stoked," and "hang ten" came straight off the beach and into mainstream American vocabulary decades ago. Non-surfers everywhere adopted them, often without knowing the origin. Actual surfers sometimes roll their eyes at overuse by tourists and marketers. Still, it remains one of the most exported regional vocabularies in the whole country.

Philadelphia says "hoagie," New York says "hero," New England says "grinder," and most everywhere else says "sub." Order one by the "wrong" name in the "wrong" city, and you may get a good-natured correction from the person behind the counter. It's a beloved, low-stakes debate—delicious regardless of what you call it.