
The Last New Moon of Summer
There is something about September that feels different.
You can almost see the Wheel turning.
The evenings arrive earlier. The mornings have a different feel. The light is changing. The garden is heavy with things that have spent all summer becoming. There is still summer here, but autumn is standing at the garden gate saying, Oi, I’m coming.
And frankly, I’m delighted. 😂
I’m not one of those people desperately clinging to the last hot days of summer. By September, I’m ready. Ready for cooler mornings, sweaters, earlier evenings and that first delicious crispness in the air.
There’s something about September that feels like an exhale.
A threshold.
And I bloody love a good threshold.
On September 10/11 we arrive at the last New Moon of summer, in earthy Virgo. After all that eclipse energy — the shifting, revealing and great big LEAP — this New Moon feels like putting our feet back on the earth.
We leapt.
We may not be entirely sure where the hell we’ve landed.
But here we are.
And perhaps the question isn’t Where am I going next?
Perhaps it’s simply:
What do I need now?
Virgo is connected with health, work, service, routines and the small details of everyday life.
Which could very easily become: New Moon! New habits! Organise everything! Buy a planner! Get up at 5 a.m.! Drink something green! Become a much better human by Tuesday!
Fuck that. 😂
What if you don’t need another self-improvement project?
What if this New Moon isn’t asking you to reinvent yourself?
What if it’s asking you to come back to yourself?
I’ve been thinking about the difference between routine and rhythm.
Routine can become something we impose upon ourselves. Rhythm asks us to listen.
Nature knows this.
My garden doesn’t arrive in September, look around and decide it hasn’t achieved enough and needs to get its shit together. It responds to the changing light, cooler nights, what has ripened, what needs gathering and what is beginning to let go.
Nature doesn’t stay in one mode all year. Why the hell do we expect ourselves to?
Maybe September is simply an invitation to notice the rhythm you need now.
What nourishes you? What are you tired of? What have you made far more complicated than it needs to be? Where is your energy going — and do you still want it going there?
That last question matters.
Virgo is also connected with service, and there can be a very fine line between service and self-abandonment.
We help. Fix. Accommodate. Carry. Understand everybody else’s needs. Manage the emotional weather.
And sometimes we become so bloody busy tending everybody else’s garden that we suddenly realise ours hasn’t been watered in weeks.
Coming back to yourself might mean remembering what is actually yours to tend.
Maybe that’s why this New Moon feels less like a beginning and more like a return.
Instead of asking, What new habits should I start?, try asking:
What would I like to return to?
Walking amongst the trees. Writing. Making something. Going to bed earlier. Sitting outside with your coffee. Dancing around the kitchen. Turning the bloody phone off. Spending time with people who make you laugh.
Those little things that make something inside you go:
Oh. There I am.
Virgo understands the power of small things.
And after eclipse season, perhaps small is exactly what we need.
We don’t need another great leap. We don’t need to know what the next six months look like.
We can put our feet on the earth, notice where we are and listen.
I’ve created a Virgo New Moon Ritual for Clarity, Health and Harmony to help you do exactly that — a little space to pause, clear some of the noise and notice what you want to tend as we move toward autumn.
So light your candle. Do the ritual. Get quiet.
And instead of asking who you’re supposed to become next, ask:
What would help me come home to myself?
The eclipse asked us to leap.
This New Moon invites us to land.
And September whispers:
Come home.
You don’t need to reinvent yourself, Gorgeous Soul.
Perhaps you simply need to come back to yourself. 🌑🍂



