In the crowded hullabaloo of last weekend's epic apocal'eclipse, it was not easy to discern what was torrenting through our worlds. Many streams of influence converged to drag us all across the threshold of before and after. This period of time will be the passage generations to come will look back on to see the split, the place where history cleaved and the past's grip loosened its hold on the future.

April fools are some of my favourite pagans. The term a quaint shaming that dates back to the 16th century when annual inception was pushed from Spring back into midwinter by cardinals with other designs on power.

Tonight without leaving my bed I make my pilgrimage to the darkest corner of the forest. The shadow of black granite rises to pierce the rumbling sky. I do not let the chill in my bones slow my determined progress. I drag the ache in my heart behind me as I place my well worn doll into the empty chamber for safekeeping.

The dark moon shroud has settlled deeply upon us. Even as we feel the weight of the rampaging Aries eclipse taking shape, we still have blessed hours left in the balsam of the dark. Here may we tie a final bow on much of the unholy madness and mayhem ready to be left behind.

The dark moon descends like a blanket thrown over us just in time. Drawing the shutters - if you will - on a rampaging last month that arrived with full notice of revolution and then knocked it into the stratosphere. The constant step ball change of retrograde mania. That full on full moon eclipse that tipped us all over its falls. Lifequake after truth bomb after rabid revelation. Tides and tempers peaked and rinsed on repeat. And all as own ready renovations and reckonings - or is that whole life edit - echo and churn.

Merc's flary flexy rx-ing through Aries was sure to confound. In Venus' immediate wake operating as the haymaker of this very ramrod one two punch. Merc's retrograde redirection has been operating like a blunt force instrument. And in shuddering eclipse territory, its cauldera an unsteady place to stay still.

Something missing from your night sky, love?That would be Venus, taking her leave from the world and the chaotic revelation her retrograde is delivering. In cahoots with eclipse season, in conjunction with Merc's batshit rx, as a cauterising force for irreversible no going back change.

We have just made the strangest crossing, one and all unwittingly. While we were sleeping without dreaming, wishing without hoping, forgetting the true nature of the frame. Tiny pulses and synapses in a constant exchange beneath thick earth skins as sky paths roared and ribboned all about us. All our worlds woven through us in this one, danced through the sequence again by ancient cogs that creak and shimmer eternal.

It was three years ago today, on the then equinox, Morsel's final pen and paper edit passed through my favourite hag stone and sailed out into the world. The product of a creative vision I couldn't get anyone else's head around, I self published her with very specific structure and content to weave a spell all of its own.

We make our way through the far end of the zodiac as if underwater. The afterglow of eclipse and the undertow of retrograde combine as an odd surrealism permeates the landscape. The place just before transition is oddly still. Time shimmers elastic.

Another long lovely chat with Michelle on her Persephone Program podcast on the quality of the current time, the Eclipse Portal, working with the elements, Shadow Dancing, Crafting a Witch-craft practice, Northern and Southern Hemisphere Astrology and so much more!

We make our way through the far end of the zodiac as if underwater. The afterglow of eclipse and the undertow of retrograde combine as an odd surrealism permeates the landscape.

Witch School is here. And I could not think of a more auspicious window to fling open the doors to my very own mystery school.

After many years of walking the wheel with witches in the Coven Electric community, Kerrie is offering a deeper experience with the art, practice and devotion of witchcraft through a series of six monthly online workshops.

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.

The moon makes her way to her fabled meeting through the clamouring ides of March. This manic month granting a secret salve whose grace offers an all seeing eye in the centre of its storms. Tucked carefully between retrograde and revelation, four void of course moons offer us all regular respite from the fray. Unusually all four linger longer, for days not hours, offering clear passage across signs and thresholds.

It is indeed wild in these streets shimmering with the lick and spittle of this mad season. Pisces eclipse season demands you surrender to its cunning craft, no small matter for a world overstuffed with recovering control freaks. The virgin's eclipse only offers rebirth to those willing to pay its price themselves.

This performative annual bullshit routinely finds me furious. Cupcakes and coffee while we politely discuss genocide in couched careful terms? Overpriced brunch in sunny AC while the world dies around us? Pretty empty speeches that change absolutely nothing from politicians committed only to re-election as femicide and domestic violence stats continue to rachet unchecked as we lose rights, respect and equality.

Venus withdraws to contemplate, revise and thus reinvigorate all that tickles and tugs at our hearts this us about far more than avoiding the ex files or changing your lewk. Venus rules those areas of our life that bring us pleasure - or her counterbalance, pain - and which reflect our values, desires, taste and attractions. Her retrograde is part of a far larger revolutionary agenda marked by two lifeshifting eclipses, another retrograde as Merc shifts perception, and the move of our blue planet to this same fire sign.