Last night I found myself wandering back through time. I lay my body down to sleep and my soul slips out to set sail on the old currents that still sometimes lap at my shore.

Every dark moon found her wandering these enchanted moors, a practice she had employed for lifetimes as she bore witness to painful rising and falling in the world of men. For far too many centuries now she had held the terrible cost to her aching heart as the moon turned her face to darkness. They wept together, tears turning to crystal in the frozen night air and falling from the sky like diamonds to litter the landscape with hope.

Saturn's rebirthing arrives through the Sun as he begins the last kiss goodbye with Aquaria. Making his way towards the border into Pisces' patient fathoms, the ides of March spelling a lottery of changing tides.

As we round the surreal bend into the final week of Aquaria, odd couplings vie for our attention. The currents torrent with codes and keys that could unlock imaginative new worlds or trap us with a flick of the wrist the wrong way. This week we each choose our own adventure through its tidings.

Merc finalised his Capricorn dance jiving with Pluto to discuss revolution, propaganda and the dark arts. Those winged heels have sent him soaring over the border into the water bearer's ground zero.

Aquaria and its new age is where all the questions live. Unusual solutions are not limited by convention or expectation. Independent thinking is lauded as the true god it is. Mercury ensconced here elevates our minds and comms, expands possibility and informs any burgeoning intention for this wild year with an inventive twist.

Today in the middle of storm and consequence, an important meeting is transpiring. In a world slavishly built on the false altar of eternal life and endless youth, the refused shadow curls around our ankles like a snake. Anaretica, thy name is transition. The fabled degree at the end of all the mansions holds change in its palm, throwing open a back door into something entirely different.

A spectacularly interesting day in the cosmos darklings, as prelude to a week of change. This is a day of two halves, though if you are dangling from your outer reaches it may be harder to access the sweet perfumed hangover of the weekend.

We wake from Venusian dreams to square dancing on our own revolutionary front.

The blue king of all the D words has gotten under Lady Love's shimmering skin. Dreamy and distracted, delirious and desiring of... what exactly? In the dark moon shadow of the eclipse nearly here, it is hard to be definite. And that is just how Neptune likes it, all the better to let his glamour cultivate what plays behind the thinning veils.

Merc has spent the week pinballing through Taurus and this weekend our fleet footed messenger gets all the bells dinging. Making multiple aspects, synchronising impact and playing fast and loose with our hammering headspaces.

As the sky blackened and the dark tides tugged at hearts and heavy heads, the tallest palm on the farthest mountain was burning. Far below in the world of men and warning, only the wise and wyrd raised their eyes to its pinnacle.

Taurus season arrives this transformational year as a portal that will carry us through eclipses, retrogrades and change writ large. Though the lair of the little bull is renowned for its feet on the ground fixed nature, myriad factors conspire to make this Taurean jaunt unlike any other. A tale told in two parts as its mirror held up to us grants passage through rampant revolution.

The lashing tail end of Aries has delivered a torrid few days, oddly spliced for maximum impact. The hard sharp edge of the usually sweet Libran full moon. Tales of crucifixion, liberation and resurrection wrapped in shiny foil and chocolate. The unbearable mash up of man's manifold attempts to craft sense of the ineffable over a four day bender. Dazed and confused, we emerge with a strange hangover that will linger long into the week.