Saturday was the last perfect spring day of the season here, and I got to enjoy it a bit. Sunday was a perfect late spring day. Monday was definitely a great day to stay in and get things done, and today, it was 100 degrees at one point.
The flowers are long since gone and the berries of the season are here. I’m filling up on nectarines and berries, and I finally got all my spring cleaning done.
And I like spring. It’s probably my favorite season. It’s not too hot, it’s not too cold, it holds the promise of new life and the terror of drowning, so that’s cool. It’s a busy season: spring is a time of awakening, of using this new body and this new life to do things.
Summer Solstice 2022:
As time goes on, I feel more affectionate toward summer. Sure, it’s hot. Sure, there’s bugs. There’s weird smells. There’s sweat. There’s weird sweat (look under your boobs). There’s crowds. There’s weird crowds. There’s weird, sweaty crowds. But there’s also sunshine, greenery, fruit, and the great pause and wait. Spring is the time of plowing, planting, and germination, summer is the season of chill: you wait. You let the plants do their thing, and while you take care that the crop isn’t overrun with weeds or eaten by competitor organisms, you’ve done all that was entirely within your control and now it’s time for nature to take it’s course. And it may seem counterintuitive that Cancer begins at summer, because isn’t that the sign of nursing and caring for babies? Yes, sort of: the born child is done being formed. Aries is the spark, the arrival into the world: the formation of the sperm and the release of the egg from the ovary. Taurus is the pleasure that caused the possibility of fertility, and then Gemini is like the travels of the egg and the sperm and when they meet and share genetic material. And yes, while reproduction and genes are considered an 8th house thing, and possibly ruled by Scorpio, this fits my illustration.
Did you know that eggs can reject sperm? On that note:
Cancer is, the first sign of community: you are a part of something, you are subject to all the things you can’t control, like your genes, who your family is, where your home is, what is available to you given your socioeconomic circumstances, and even if you spend a lifetime trying to undo the damage, it’s still with you, because you can’t just “get over it,” the same way that the wheat crop can’t simply “get over” being sown in clay.
But Cancer cares for and protects things that have already been created because things that are already created are suddenly in a world full of stimuli, threats, possibilities, and options, and the things newly created haven’t been tested, haven’t had time to adapt, and are still putting all their resources into growing. Green grass isn’t ready to be harvested for grain, but there’s always something willing to eat it while it’s young. And while Cancer is not an idle season, it must watch, wait, and be patient much of the time — and it must know when to let go or else Leo season, which is self-expression, won’t arrive, and self-expression can only occur when the other needs are met, when there is room and a place in the sun: how many children miss the crucial step of developing an identity of their own because of a family circumstance, whether it’s abuse, neglect, the need to take on responsibilities before they’re ready, or some other trauma that makes them think they are whomever the group tells them they are, that they’re not to learn about and reveal themselves to the world?
Summer is not supposed to be a time of continuous work: the late season, Virgo, is the harvest, but until then, rest is not waste. Rest and the ability to enjoy life are vital to remaining alive because duty alone isn’t enough. The heat doesn’t just slow you down: it tells you that some things just aren’t important. There’s berries turning red on the bush and peaches on the branch. There’s water for bathing right in the river. There’s warmth without a fire roaring in the hearth. There’s plenty of light for creative work — see the connection between Leo and summer now? And if what you need is within arm’s reach, then why make it harder on yourself anyway?
The solstice is a solar event, and there’s really little practical use to making a generic solstice prediction. However, I do think that with Jupiter conjunct the Moon and squaring the Sun, we can expect some tension between what is good for the tribe and what is good for the individual. What is wanted and what is needed is not quite gelling: what is needed is freedom to be out in the world giving zero fucks, but what is needed is to be secure and to know that others are taking care of things so that we’re all going to be okay. Jupiter is there exacerbating things, making us dream bigger and bigger about what we need and how much of it we can get, while also exploding our desire for rest. And this could be the conflict between needing to go outside to get some vitamin D vs. staying inside with the A/C on. It could be going out and showing your solidarity with others or staying inside hoping no assholes with guns start shooting because they think a better America for them and their tribe requires less of you around.
The good news? The Moon moves into Taurus tomorrow.
The best thing to do with a solstice prediction is to figure out how it impacts you on a personal level because each go around the zodiac does. For me, the summer solstice sun completes what is otherwise a t-square in my chart, giving me a special kind of motivation that keeps me going, whether it’s awakening something internally (not often) or causing something outside of me to reset my sense of security or home (more likely) and my place in the tribe (usually) as it occurs in my 4th house. It’s usually a time of endings for me, and not because school is out (though school is usually out by then), but that something either related to the 10th or the 4th house comes to an end, quietly, and I move on. So far, I don’t know what that is yet for this season, but usually, it involves moving, and two summers ago, I moved into this apartment on the summer solstice. Last summer, I thought I would move, but I changed my mind. But I did actually move into something 10th house related. Now we see what this summer brings.