Eclipses should come with a similarly succinct warning. But even with all possible due diligence, this mad season oft gets the best of us. If everyone or everything is feeling chaotic, unsteady or hard simmering towards boil over, remember this gristle and grinding down is how we make the change eclipses always herald. Not one of us is immune to their sandpaper loving and violent reconfiguration. Fuck you, says the eclipse to the earth’s meat in its sandwich, I’m hardly going to do what you tell me.

You've arrived early to the eclipse but you can wait here in our biding room. The moon window isn't quite all the way open and life litter is piling up in the corners. The black branch leaning over you creaks in the whipping wind like the old ones do, wearied by the world and its clamour.

Eclipses ripple along our timelines as divine disruption to regular programming. They slingshot us in and out of the passages of our lives. This first eclipse will clear the path. The second on the Aries new moon is going to launch you like a fledgling, perhaps flaming, into what comes next.

Blood moon beckons and the skies bear testament to her nearness now. This mad season feels less like a waxing peak, more akin to the dredging reserved for the deep dark of the moon.