Storyteller's Night Sky 2025-09-03 (On the Way to Full Moon With An Eclipse Behind)

On Sunday September 7 there’s a Total Eclipse of the Moon, but it will only be visible on one side of the Earth, in Asia, not here in the US. Over here, the Moon will rise Saturday evening (September 6), the night before eclipse, 20 minutes before the Sun sets, the two great lights straddling the horizon, “dividing the day from the night, a sign for seasons, and days, and years.” To get to this eve of its Full Phase, the Moon will spend the week traveling from Sagittarius to Aquarius, passing through the Capricorn gateway of the gods along the way. In the meantime, on Tuesday, the planet Mercury, messenger of the gods, will meet the star Regulus at the heart of the lion, early in the morning and close to the horizon. At the same time, Venus will sweep her hand over the beehive cluster at the center of the constellation Cancer. This cluster is sometimes referred to as the cradle, which gives a nice imagination of being watched over by the mother of love and beauty. Then the Full Moon happens, eclipsed, but only on the opposite side of the Earth, as though it were behind. I say it this way because it brings to mind for me Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s first entry in her “Sonnets of the Portuguese.” These love letters were inspired by her burgeoning romance with Robert Barrett, which she only revealed to him three years after they were married in September 1846. She was already considered a chronic invalid and had suffered deep tragedy in her life, and at the age of 40, little did she expect to find the loving fulfilment that awaited her. It's strengthening to keep this in mind, when the world seems bleak, when a sense of doom and hopelessness seeks to gain the upper hand. It’s always possible that something greater is finally within reach, and the stars this week point in that direction. Here’s Elizabeth Barrett Browning, sonnet 1: I thought once how Theocritus had sung Of the sweet years, the dear and wished for years, Who each one in a gracious hand appears To bear a gift for mortals, old or young: And, as I mused it in his antique tongue, I saw, in gradual vision through my tears, The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, Those of my own life, who by turns had flung A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware, So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair, And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, ... Guess now who holds thee?'—Death,' I said. But there, The silver answer rang ... Not Death, but Love.'