I am relishing the late summer weather on my early morning walks.
September arrived with a fresh breeze that chased away the high heat and humidity. The sound of the occasional leaf scratching the pavement as the wind catches its edges, reminds me that the autumn equinox is just a few weeks away.
In the Northern hemisphere the sun in the early morning feels more intimate than it did in August, as it rests lower on the horizon. As if reaching out its hands, the sun extends its beams through the tree branches creating dappled designs that play with the shadows on the ground as me and my sweet four-legged friend welcome the day.
When I return, I meander through the garden. I check in on my plants, harvest a few herbs or cherry tomatoes…
…and bend down to pull out weeds when a wave of guilt hits.
July and (especially) August were so busy and full. Throughout the summer gardening tasks were continuously being demoted to an entry further and further down on my to-do list.
Tending our garden often feels like it needs the time commitment of a full-time job, especially when growing, harvesting and processing medicinal herbs. For example, the chamomile and calendula really need to be thoroughly picked every three days consistently for several months. Their abundance is awe-inspiring, but their pace feels unrelentingly harsh at times. So many plants went to seed earlier than they should, and now they seem to think it is time to withdraw their vitality and surrender to winter all too soon.
As I was pulling the crinkly leaves off the dried Tulsi plants last night, I realized that one of our drying trays had developed mold from being over-stuffed with abundance and then being forgotten about. Shit.
On the patio sits multiple containers hosting hundreds of new baby herbs that I carefully nurtured from seed indoors in the spring. These poor things were then submitted to months of persistent sun and heat with scarce watering as they sat in only a few inches of soil that was ill equipped to protect them from the elements.
My intention to get these weary plant soldiers transplanted into comfortable garden beds before summer weather peaked, was mostly stymied.
When these moments of garden guilt find me on my knees, weeding for forgiveness, I’m reminded that it is now Virgo Season.
Often symbolized by a woman holding a bundle of wheat, Virgo (mutable earth) can be described as a harvest maiden - or as a priestess tending the physical environment as an act of sacred devotion to divinity.
A manifestation of Virgo energy is someone who is dedicated to a process - and the continual refinement of that process.
Although sometimes known for being a harshly critical perfectionist, when we access Virgo from its balanced position on the zodiacal axis across from Pisces, we see someone who combines tender patience and forgiveness (for self and others) with the incredible capacity to locate errors and identify areas for improvement with precision.
If you want constructive, honest feedback that will truly help you up your game, call a Virgo-type.
During Virgo-themed chapters of life, what is required are not grand gestures or dramatic promises to “do better”, but the willingness to show up. Day after day. To keep trying. To keep practicing. To commit to staying engaged with the process itself.
All of the mutable signs are in-betweens. They are the liminal spaces, the thresholds, the transitional signs that stitch together the shifts between seasons.
Gemini, Virgo, Sag and Pisces are masters of facilitating chaotic deterioration in order to prepare spaces for something new to arrive. Virgo, as mutable earth, teaches us how to take everything apart so we can put it together again - even better.
I find Virgo’s grace and forgiveness when I’m on my knees pulling weeds during these late summer days. I access Virgo energy when I don’t give up, but rather, when I devote myself to tending to the tasks at hand one step at a time; a little bit each day.
Slowly my tired, fried and deprived little seedlings are making the transition from container to garden. Already the elecampane, echinacea and wild bergamot are producing new leaves in their new homes, indicating that they will perhaps be able to settle and root enough to survive the winter.
I bring Virgo’s organizing and compartmentalizing qualities indoors as I gradually move the backlog of dried herbs from drying trays into various jars and zip-lock bags. Tulsi, chamomile, calendula, motherwort, blue vervain, marshmallow, mugwort, mullein, plantain, lavender, oatstraw, yarrow, evening primrose… labeled, dated, check check.
Virgo’s skillset is well suited to the harvest season.
Thanks to Virgo, the abundance of Leo season can be efficiently channeled into appropriate storage solutions and preparations so that the harvest can nourish bodies throughout the year, rather than rot and waste.
You may not be spending Virgo season in the garden, but perhaps Virgo traits or themes are showing up in some other way for you at this time?
Reflections on the Summer’s Triple Conjunction of Mars-Uranus-NN
“Routine” is another common Virgo keyword, defined by Webster’s dictionary as the “habitual or mechanical performance of an established procedure.”
I must admit, I am craving routine these days. Habitual performance of an established procedure - yes please! I want the day-framing structure and anchors that repetitive and familiar activities provide.
Our Uranus-Mars themed summer was predictably full of unexpected u-turns and my pre-existing routine quickly fell apart.
Uranus is anti-routine.
In short, in July/August I continued renovating my bedroom, there was a family reunion, and my brother and his girlfriend got married in the backyard three weeks after setting the wedding date - which then had to be rescheduled due to a rain storm!
For a few weeks there were 7 adults, 2 dogs, and a bearded dragon under one roof.
These are relative numbers and for some this may be the norm, but for us it was certainly a “full house.” Each individual was experiencing the turbulent global astro in a variety of ways; each on their own emotional roller coaster, and each pulled in many directions toward different commitments, priorities and needs.
That said, there were many wonderful, significant moments of connection and celebration - and many opportunities to “get unstuck.”
In my last post (published in July), titled Getting unstuck, I spoke to the potential of the incoming triple conjunction of Mars-Uranus-North Node in Taurus (peaking on July 31st/Aug 1st) to move us out of stagnancy. I wrote:
There’s something that has been building momentum since Mars entered Taurus on July 5th. There may be a sense of increasing restlessness and agitation. Perhaps a feeling of urgency, perhaps a deadline that must be met next week [~July 31st/Aug 1st]. There could be growing appetite, a ravenous hunger for something deeply desired that is perceived to be just out of reach.
As Mars and the North Node dance with Uranus it is possible we could be propelled into an unusual and unexpected situation where we need to respond spontaneously in the moment. Uranus is the invitation to be free, to be you, and to do the weird thing, the risky thing, that catalyzes a series of events you could never have planned nor anticipated.
…Taurus is stubborn AF. Unshakable. Unmovable. Unchangeable.
Until insurmountable pressure forces its hand.
In the area of life defined by the house with Taurus on its cusp in our birth chart, we are immensely strong and resilient. Yet in this area of life we can also get dangerously stuck in ways that inhibit our growth and potential.
Taurus is the most fixed of the fixed signs. Taurus carves out a rut so deep in the mud that it can feel near impossible to turn our wheels in another direction.
So therefore… this upcoming triple conjunction is a huge opportunity!
Uranus + Mars + the North Node is a perfect combination for breaking free of stagnancy and extricating yourself from a particularly persistent pattern in your life. This transit will likely not feel comfortable because among all the signs, Taurus is the most resistant to change, but ultimately if you look at it as an opportunity, this is an invitation to unlock and untap the exhilarating energy of liberation in the Taurean area of your life.
Since it seemed to me that there was more than enough fear mongering out there regarding this transit, I focused primarily on the positive potential and referenced the shadows of it only briefly. However, this transit combination (which lingered throughout August, defining the summer months) can indeed be disruptive and stressful. Mars-Uranus-North Node may have felt like chaos hurtling through our lives at a very high speed.
Some of us may have gotten “unstuck” under extreme pressure!
As for the challenges, I wrote in my last post:
Taurus doesn’t like change and prefers to move slowly and methodically, whereas Mars + Uranus are like, let’s MOVE IT, NOW! LETSGOLETSGOLETSGO - in many erratic directions all at once.
As a result, there can be impatience, urgency, frustration, inflammation, volatility and anger.
And, there can also be radical break-throughs, innovative successes, exhilarating freedom, and exciting changes (thanks to the extra dose of courage to do the weird risky thing you know you want to).
Overall, Mars, Uranus and the North Node (conjoining July 31st/Aug. 1st) seek greater freedom, independence and growth.
While this past summer marked the only time that Mars would conjoin with Uranus while also simultaneously colliding with the North Node in Taurus, Mars actually makes a total of three conjunctions to Uranus during Uranus’ 7-year stay in Taurus.
Its recent conjunction with Uranus on August 1st, 2022, was Mars’ second out of three.
The first occurred on January 20th, 2021 at 6 degrees Taurus. That one correlated with inauguration day in the United States, when Biden formally began his presidency. Certainly it was a day that contained a lot of intensity, edgy anticipation, and change for the country.
Mars and Uranus will meet once more in Taurus on July 15th, 2024, at 26 degrees.
For an in-depth reflective exploration of some of the geo-political correlations of this year’s Mars-Uranus (+ NN) transit, Stephanie Warner’s blog post provides good coverage. Kelly Surtees’ earlier forecasting post also provides additional context on this dynamic transit.
I was too distracted by the impact of this transit in my own life to make note of numerous correlations occurring in the public sphere, but I did pick up on a few examples that illustrate the wide spectrum of manifestations that can align with this combustible transit.
During the week prior to the triple conjunction perfecting on July 31st/Aug. 1st, Mercury in Leo made square aspects to all three planets/points in Taurus in quick succession, giving us a potent preview of what was around the corner.
As Mercury made its first square to Mars in Taurus on Tuesday, July 26th, there was a particularly vivid example of this transit that hit close to home…
Taurus is the sign most resonant with beautiful gardens. Mars is the planet of sharp things, weapons that cut, and actions that defend or attack. Mercury is the trickster planet that has an affinity with those who sneak or thieve.
In the early AM on July 26th, nearly 30 trees in this beloved public park were girdled with an axe (i.e., stripped of bark all the way around the tree) by someone who clearly knew what they were doing - someone who knew girdling would likely kill these trees, many of whom had stood strong for well over a century.
Thus this manifestation of Mercury square Mars in Taurus was devastatingly on point. It was also bizarre and unexpected - the Uranian twist (Mercury would then square Uranus two days later).
The perpetrator was never caught and the motive is not known.
This is the uglier side of Mars-Uranus - someone’s rage and anger hitting a boiling point, “getting unstuck”, and causing destruction in erratic and impulsive ways.
And then other times Mars-Uranus shows up with pure chaos and bizarre accidents that have no ill intent or anger behind them. Case in point:
This massive 30-person pile-up of cyclists during the Tour de France occurred on July 28th as Mercury squared Uranus (+ Mars/NN). Honestly this looks more like getting stuck, rather than getting unstuck, but it does prompt a typical Uranus-Mars question: “wtf happened here?!”
Mars is athletes, competitions and collisions. Uranus is bizarre.
Also on July 26th, as Mercury squared a feisty Mars and the triple conjunction was in the works, I caught this response by Amanda Palmer to a (former?) fan on Instagram who expressed their disappointment upon hearing Amanda had barely been playing the piano the last few years:
Art does not work the way you think it works.
I have not lost my power because I have been making sandwiches for a kid instead of playing the piano. I have not lost my power because I have been cleaning dishes and picking up legos and reading What The Ladybird Heard for the 45th time instead of playing the piano. I have not lost my power because I have spent hundreds of hours on the phone with other mothers, trying to make sense of a shuddering planet…
I have not lost my power. I have found my power in the crushed cheerios, the stinking vomit-covered overalls that I have washed by the side of the road using a bottle of water, I have found my power in the dark and fierce shine of my child's eyes when he tells me, as he is falling asleep, that he is working on telling his nightmares what to do.
When I have time and am ready to play the piano again, I am going to make a noise so inflammatory, so holy, so broken, so deafening, so honest, and so absolutely goddamn powerful that you will question what music even means.
You will not know what hit you. You will have to avert your ears.
If your wings are broken because I haven't had time to play the piano, dude...imagine me. Broken-winged, but fully disintegrated, self-digested, existentially melted like a caterpillar in a coffin-dark soup of raw imaginum, ready to goddamn explode.
46-year-old Amanda Palmer - with a stellium of Sun, Moon, Jupiter, South Node, Vesta and Pallas in Taurus - has been having a life-altering wild ride the last few years as she’s been experiencing her Uranus opposition (as someone who was born with a powerful Uranus opposition to begin with), as well as her reverse nodal return and eclipses on the Taurus-Scorpio axis.
I believe her response captures the explosive power of the Mars-Uranus-NN powder keg combo with the South Node sweeping through Scorpio.
“I have not lost my power.” Don’t you dare stick me in a box.
When discussing transits involving Uranus in Taurus, it feels important to also mention Saturn in Aquarius.
Saturn and Uranus have been caught in a tense fixed-sign square since 2021.
When the triple conjunction occurred in Taurus at the beginning of August, Saturn and Uranus were within 4 degrees of an exact 90-degree square relationship to each other. Currently, Saturn and Uranus are within 2 degrees of a square to each other.
This means that as faster moving planets pass through Taurus (like Mars), they run into Uranus, and then very quickly end up squaring Saturn, thereby re-activating this longstanding, slow-moving outer planet aspect. So for example, Mars conjoined with Uranus on August 1st, and then was squaring Saturn by August 7th.
The Full Moon in Aquarius on August 11th was conjunct Saturn within a couple degrees, while the Sun (in Leo) and Moon (in Aquarius) simultaneously made a tight square to Uranus - again, powerfully activating the symbolism of the Uranus-Saturn square.
Venus and Mercury were also in Leo this summer, making similar aspects and triggering the Saturn-Uranus square. Mercury poked at these planetary heavyweights throughout the last week of July as discussed, and then Venus in Leo reached her square with Uranus in Taurus on August 27th, opposing Saturn in Aquarius the very next day.
When my brother’s bride-to-be asked me for astrological insight in regards to selecting a wedding date, it was slim pickings for the month of August because of these repeated hard aspects in the fixed signs! (more on this in a future blog post)
The Uranian contacts would have felt more electrifying and energizing for better or worse, accompanied by fast-moving chaos or inspiration.
As Mercury/Mars/Sun/Moon/Venus then moved on to square or oppose Saturn, it may have felt like momentum hit a brick wall with lots of frustration.
When the Sun opposed Saturn on August 14th for example, someone in the house told me: “We realized we couldn’t do it all” (in regards to ambitious summer plans).
Saturn is the reality-check and the brake to the spontaneous, rebellious energy of Uranus.
Throughout the end of July and beginning of August, I was frantically working on refinishing my bedroom floors - while simultaneously trying to learn how the heck to do this. After stripping the floors with a monster sander that looked more like a lawnmower, I nervously applied the first coat of polyurethane finish.
The next morning Uranus felt close by as I awoke to find my floor covered in hundreds of visible small dents, glistening under the glossy finish that brought them to light.
Despite hours and hours on my hands and knees trying to smooth out all the bumps left by the monster sander, I was apparently unsuccessful.
My floor was covered in waves.
I had a frustrated self-pity party for a few hours, but multiple family members were on route and we needed the extra room that I had been occupying while renovating my bedroom.
“The show must go on,” I mumbled to myself. I applied three more coats of finish, while feeling like I was locking in my mistakes.
Leo season is a time for pride, self-expression, leadership, and the desired outcome that we want to show off to others. Saturn in Aquarius is a commitment to necessary collaboration and the personal compromises we make in order to work with others toward a common goal.
As planets in Leo hit that opposition to Saturn from the end of July to the end of August, many of us may have had to make some uncomfortable adjustments in order to prioritize the multiple needs and goals of the communities or group efforts we found ourselves partaking in.
I do hope, however, that in the midst of Uranian chaos and Saturnian challenges, that the Mars-Uranus-North Node transit offered the very best kind of liberatory experience for you!
And I also hope that you’ve had the space and time to ground, rest and recover if you need to.
By the way, my bedroom is not perfect, but I eventually got over the many mistakes I made. I’m honestly thrilled with how it looks!
Change is good. Wavy floors are cool.
I have also finally arrived at a place where Virgo’s reassuring rhythms, routines and rituals of everyday life are accessible once again. But it took a while.
Reflections on the recent New Moon in Virgo (August 27th)
After the post-wedding clean up and once house guests had departed, I was just beginning to orient towards my todo lists and my dusty daily habits when we hit some more bumpy astro with a strong measure of chaos and urgency.
Uranus stationed retrograde on August 24th while we were descending with the dark moon at the end of a lunation cycle. Then the new moon in Virgo arrived on August 27th, exactly square to Mars in Gemini (which was transiting my natal moon at the time), while Venus was squaring Uranus and applying to an opposition with Saturn throughout that weekend.
Several days before the new moon we received a last minute request to rent a room to a student who was never named (two days notice before they needed to move in) - we said no; too much too soon - and we initiated a battle with the rats on our property!
We moved quickly to defend (Mars) the home (moon) against thieving little critters (Gemini).
Gemini can also be the sign of students (who are not thieving garden critters to be clear), but here too, there was a sense that we had to assert some boundaries (Mars) in regards to the house (moon) while we recovered from the summer.
Virgo is thorough and has a sharp eye for every tiny imperfection. I felt very Virgo-like in a paranoid type of way as I assessed the external walls and surfaces for possible cracks or holes that might make the home vulnerable to rodents.
There were some warning signs a couple of months ago (some suspicious holes near the walkway, young sunflower and echinacea plants beheaded in the spring), but the warning signs had dramatically accelerated in recent weeks. For some reason it was always me who was the one to catch a glimpse of them.
In addition to the resonant energies of the new moon, I could also see the nodal axis reflected in the situation. As we spent less and less time in the garden, in our absence the expansive (and hungry) North Node in Taurus took over with an overabundance of produce and foliage. The rats too, would have been urged forward by August’s brazen and bold Mars-Uranus conjunction.
Tall raspberry canes and enormous squash leaves created a jungle that made it difficult to traverse the paths - and provided many hiding spots. Ripe, juicy tomatoes dropped to the ground with no one to pick them.
The rats arrived (or reproduced) through the Scorpio South Node pipe line, coming out in the dark of night to secret away the tempting harvest. A power struggle has now commenced.
Among all the garden plants it was my wheat patch that was most affected. The rats had decimated it! I was so bummed. Only a few stalks remain standing.
This made me think again of the new moon in Virgo (via the wheat connection) being under attack from Mars in the sign of Gemini, which has an affinity both with sneaky little creatures and fast moving weapons. Now that I’m reflecting further, as a metaphor that could be applicable to everyone, this photo of a snap trap beside wheat stalks is a very accurate summation of the past new moon’s vibe!
Clearly a rat invasion did nothing to assuage my guilt at having neglected the garden throughout the summer. It certainly did nothing good for my nervous system. I was angry that I was made to feel so unsafe in the garden, always listening carefully for rustling sounds. I am not particularly squeamish when I see rodents out in the wild, but I sure do struggle when they show up uninvited in my living space. Rats especially, can do immense damage to property structures if allowed to spread unchecked.
However, I’m trying to accept that dealing with rodents is simply part of having an (urban) veg/fruit/herb garden. Our property is becoming more and more inviting to wildlife. This year we witnessed three babies sparrows hatch in a nest their mother made in the raspberry bushes! Bees, butterflies, and even hummingbirds are clearly happy here. To ban only rodents I’m sure seems discriminatory to the rats, but maybe we could hire a bouncer to do the screening for us? Like via inviting an owl to the property??
Thanks to astrology, at least I knew ahead of time that transiting Mars conjunct my Moon in Gemini (while square to the New Moon) was not going to be chill!
It was not yet time to rest. I instead focused on cultivating courage by accessing my inner animal predator (i.e., Mars).
Hopefully you were not dealing with rats, but you too, may have felt this mars-like tension around August 27th with the New Moon in Virgo. The sun and moon in Virgo wanted focused analysis, order and organization, while Mars in Gemini was a million places at once, gathering and collecting all the info and options (or sneaking in and out of hiding places).
This transit could have shown up in a multitude of ways, but my guess is that the new moon brought many of you, situations that felt urgent, fast-moving, and perhaps hectic and frustrating.
Due to the new moon’s square, the current lunation cycle has now been imprinted with Mars’ inflammatory energetic signature, but hopefully you are still finding a more gentle, grounded rhythm now, as I am.
With each old healthy habit that I re-install, I feel better. My early morning walks are one of my favourite parts of the day. My altar has been tended to, decorated in accordance with the season of Lammas as per the pagan Wheel of the Year. And most importantly, I feel like I’m restoring my relationship with my plants as I take the time to visit them each day and reclaim the garden from its nighttime, underworld lords.
In terms of upcoming astrology, Mercury is about to station retrograde at 8° Libra this Saturday (September 10th), the same day as the full moon in Pisces. Mars slipped into its pre-retrograde shadow on September 3rd at 8° Gemini - a prelude to its retrograde period which begins on October 30th.
Of course, the sky never really stops with the drama for long, but nevertheless, may the rhythms of Virgo season ease the end-of-summer transitions in your life and help you prepare for the upcoming retrogrades.