Autumn is here. There is magic in the air. After the high winds: still, dull skies, yellow-leaved birch, bronze beech. Delicious fall smells: woodsmoke, rot, mushrooms, apples.
The nights are reaching into the hours of day, here in the north. But everywhere, the season of magic opened today. The Sun moved into Scorpio, Mars moved into Libra. In a couple of days, the Sun will conjoin mighty Jupiter in this, the sign of what lies beneath, shining a light down there, maybe lighting a bonfire this year.
Traditionally, of course, this is the time when the veil is thin. The mouth of the underworld opens, the dead speak — and we listen. Our ancestors seem closer now. In some parts of the world — Mexico, Europe — preparations are under way for celebrating and honouring the dead at the start of November. Skulls are being sugared, pots of chrysanthemums shipped on trucks Holland south.
But before then, we are in a dangerous moment with the Sun preparing for the darkest part of his journey through the Zodiac. This is the week before All Hallows Eve, when the dead walk.
Scorpio is the sign of fixed water: emotional focus, ice. Maybe its association with witches, the uncanny, the occult should tell us something. For what is a spell but distilled intentionality, desire honed to sharp point.