This is some kinda moon!

See the Crescent just out from the longest finger of the Great Fir? (click on the image for a larger view)

 Spring has come, and with it many clear and beautifully lit skies have allowed us access to the many shapes of Mahina, the Moon. The other evening, at twilight, I was out with my camera.
"There's Moki clicking at any empty sky!" my neighbor said as she walked toward me through the orchard.
"No," I promised. "She's up there. Near twelve o'clock, just up from the tip of that tree." I was navigating her to the barely visible crescent in a not quite dark enough sky.
"Oh," she was surprised to see it. "Now which direction is the moon moving?"
"West," I said, "she's setting into the trees."

Two hours later, in a dark sky ... Hina nearly set in our horizon of Tall Ones.

A miraculous thing is happening here in the woods. Time and grit are wearing at us, and our roots are settling into the glacial silt (not much natural top soil on this island) with a lot of help from the First Beings. All around us and with us day and night we are learning so much from Tree Beings who grow to a hundred and fifty feet with roots that depend not so much on deep soil, but on reaching out to each other creating a network of confidence as their root systems flow like blood. In the limbs of those Tree Beings, Feathered Beings make their nests, lay their eggs, hunker down against the blow of winds of all variety. Songs from those Feathered Beings make such music, the tones and the signatures comforting, messaging, filling space with just the right amount of emptiness for potential.

We happy up when the Sun sends those rays alaula into our eyeballs, even as we squint against its power. During the weeks when the Moon is in the sky during the sunlight hours there is a very different point of balance. A subtle weighing is happening though most of us wouldn't notice.

Satori writes, "Thursday morning the Moon in Cancer, its own sign, sextiles the Sun in Taurus. Both quincnunx retrograde Saturn in Sagittarius. The lights line up in water and earth creating a protective exchange with each other in order to get the most from that long term, far-reaching fire. Burn off your obligations, you’re protected.[...]

After these many decades of living, this spring seems to be wearing me with new appreciation. We are reciprocal in our dance this year. I know for sure that it matters what I think, and Nature in all her manifestations responds to my thinking. The Woods, the Birds, the Wind they are getting to know us. Raven in particular loves that big turquoise truck. When we inched our way into this spot five seasons ago we were being led by forces greater than ourselves. We had begun to count on the moon for help with navigation, but my astrologer said something about that controversial planet/dwarf plant/not planet Pluto ... 'you can feel Pluto's effect long before it aspects your natal chart. But you never know how deep you'll go.'

So up in the sky the planets, stars, and moon set up a network for honing and homing in on our potential, if you believe in the wonder of all that is. It is some kinda moon, planet and symphony of energy being exchanged now, and all the time. What a life. What potential. What a moon. Notice it today.

'Ole Kukahi

At home, in the woods, the sky had cleared to the bright-eyes of blue. A time to give thanks for all, on the first po of 'ole. Relaxing and soaking in life as I find it now, here on Tscha-kole-chy (Whidbey Island). Ka La the sun radiant. Blessing the sacred place. The gift of soft and companionable breezes teased the tips of the Tall Ones, and the wind chimes dangling from the edge of the vardo.

Mahalo nui loa e na aumakua!

And while we weren't paying attention ... Rygel has been busy! Beautiful, Rygel.

Placeholder Soul: a Saturn in Scorpio story

"Placeholder names are words that can refer to objects or people whose names are temporarily forgotten, irrelevant, or unknown in the context in which they are being discussed." - "Placeholder name" Wikipedia

"I am a old woman," it wasn't an excuse. As the two of us stood at the entrance to the nightclub it was a statement. The guy was asking for my I.D. My date was laughing out loud.


"You're kidding right?" I looked the bouncer in the eye; I looked up off the top of my trifocals and waited for his answer. Right, I should have been ... what? Felt complimented. Neither of us seemed primed with humor that night. And, my partner played along waiting to see what happened. The chicks behind us were fumbling for their wallets, and didn't mind waiting as I finally fished my driver's license from my purse.


Humor must have finally bit the guy, he looked at my picture, and the date. D.O.B. November 16, 1947. He was grinning now. "Wow, you're the same age as my grandmother."


"Told you!"


The young man with seriously bulging biceps bowed low. Maybe he forgot his contacts or maybe what my husband kept telling me was true-- "You don't age. How do you do that?" I never look in mirrors, haven't got one big enough to look at so I've stopped bothering.




This is a bit of fiction wrapping itself around truth, it's my process of making my way through a time of de-stabilization (it's Saturn retrograde and Jupiter retrograde ... so luck and understanding are both on hold). I'm giving thanks on a Kane Po (a Kane phase of the moon) and seriously considering the effects of the recent dose of medicine I received last week. The small wooden kinolau appeared on the beach after a session with my medicine woman. We worked with some very old and lingering soul pain, and the specific effects that pain has when spring and the rites of pollen riotously fill the environment where I live.


Now ... to disclose and continue with the story, I find it necessary to shift from truth to myth to be comfortable moving forward. That's why I'm mixing things together here. The definition from Wikipedia is significant. This is about Placeholder names. We've all had occasion, or seasons, where we can't remember the name of something and call the thing a whatchacallit. If you're as old as I am the gizmo might be a placeholder name for the hand-held thingy that makes phone calls and takes pictures.


The short conversation with the old woman being asked for her I.D. by the young man with serious biceps is meant to breed a little silliness, because the issue my medicine woman and I are dealing with has to do with rituals of gratitude and acceptance. At this point in my life (Saturn retrogrades back into Scorpio for the last time in my lifetime) I'm calling on my Ancestors and the Soul they have cared for (that is me) This is about clicking of sticks to ask the ancestors for help. It's the Placeholder Soul I've forgotten to acknowledge and give gratitude to.


Let's see how I can unwind the story well enough.


When I was trying to make sense of life for the umpteenth time back in 2008, I hunted up a psychic who read Akashic Records. She told me that when I was born, the soul assigned to me was not yet ready for prime time Earth life. The primitive reality of Earth was too much for this other star system soul. In a nutshell Earth did not look like a safe place to be living the rest of her life. So ... she opted out. Played the waiting game. Well, no baby can be born on Earth without a soul. It just can't happen. Remember Raven and the Whale? It's a story about every living being having and needing a soul. If you haven't listened to that story, it would be worth a little diversion ... really!


In my case, my pre-mature purple skinned baby girl self needed a soul. A Placeholder Soul, a 'simple and down-to-earth' soul stepped in to take the reluctant other star system soul meant for me. For sixty-one years BakBak (the name I gave my Placeholder Soul; a character name I borrowed from one of Sheherazade's 1001 Tales of the Arabian Nights) had been my soul's guide. The work was complicated by the eventual arrival of that reluctant other star-system soul. For decades the two souls have tugged and pulled at my life path like a rubber band.


When I began working with the psychic in 2008 she sent BakBak off to have a soul's life independent of me. I never said a true good-bye, nor did I set up an altar where BakBak's memory, and sacrifice is acknowledged every day. Can you imagine what it's like to have two souls for sixty years? Let me tell you the astrological natal chart could tell you a lot if you read charts.


Anyway ... on and on.


My medicine woman and I have begun the work of gratitude for my Placeholder Soul, BakBak. Placed at the altar, along with Kainoa this old woman who appears to be aging in reverse does the work while Saturn reverses into the sign of my Sun, Chiron, Mercury and Mid-Heaven. Perhaps the elixir of compassion for both my Placehold Soul and me can be concocted this spring. An offering for the approaching New Moon in Pisces and Solar Eclipse at Equinox.


A lot goes into making a life, with a soul that dances for the fullness of being human. Without reservations, this kind of life could embrace springtime with all its bombastic appreciation for life. I have much to unlearn, and BakBak in his/her new place of honor at the altar can help from the other side of the borders.


See why both myth and truth must braid for a full, complicated story requiring time (Saturn) and depth (Scorpio)?

Moon Watchers

LAST NIGHT: Our friend Prescott and Pete at the Tilth watch the Mahealani moon and the stars showed up in this photo because they
... just couldn't resist

THE NIGHT BEFORE: We went to the shore to watch the Hoku moon rising. Behind a hazy sky she rose above one of the sprawling mansions that fence the beach. We parked at the public access lot and stood to see our companion moon, Hina.

Well, some time since the computer software 'bug' came to occupy and today, the 'bug' is either in remission or gone away. I am able to load pictures from the Quonset ... so, here are a few. There are many more pictures at Count on the Moon, as I try notice and journal the observations of my place.