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.

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.

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 Aries ingress delivers equinox as the wheel of the year creaks to its next notch. The time of exact balance between day and night, light and dark where the door swings open to the next season of our lives. The veil thins as we cross the threshold of this liminal space where the ancestors gather.

The equinox tipping point beckons but nature never goes early. Her time is ever ours to keep. For more than a day yet we are plunged and resurface gasping through the fathomless whirlpool of Pisces. Its inherent dissolution loosening the bonds to what has already passed. Its inexorable draw torrenting over the falls at the far end of the zodiac.

We are arriving to the edge of the world, the lashing tail end of the zodiac and its strange churning frequencies. Telepathing its fathomless currents, an oceanic flood of feelings clouding all but the present. It is hard to focus and easy to get carried away.

In the place just before transition, when emergence beckons and you can hear the call of the next horizon flickering beyond the threshold, the temptation is to leap. To bolt towards what comes next, trading the present for the future in a whirling swirling haste.

The Aries initiation point arrives like a blaze, arising from the depths of the Piscean waterworld. Its time stamp is the equinox and seasons rearrange themselves around its cardinal doorway. The zodiac refreshes and we look to its next start finish line for portents as the keys to the next solar cycle dangle from its bright beams.

Whilst the sabbats that mark the notches on the wheel of the year stand sentinel over eons, they become our personal markers for change. We arrive to each in a different form and at a different place in our life.

We have set sail across the final straits of Pisces, on our way through the tail end of the zodiac. The final tock on the astrological clock is a watershed, prelude to a tipping point. Tomorrow the sun crosses the celestial equator and arrives to Aries, delivering equinox as the wheel turns.

We have arrived to the edge of the world, the lashing tail end of the zodiac and its strange churning frequencies. Telepathing its fathomless currents, an oceanic flood of feelings clouding all but the present. It is hard to focus and easy to get carried away. We perceive the smoke rising from the horizon, smell its warning and its welcome. Can already see the incendiary arrival of Aries season nearly here. But first we must navigate the last falls of Pisces, as prelude to the next season of our lives.

Ravens have told the tale of equinox for centuries in a language few humans understand. Crows cluster in murderous throngs cawing the change of season as the sun rises over a world painfully rebirthing. It is time and they know it, stalking the sunrise and gurgling the true tale of the next season.

The sun into Aries and equinox is our begin again. The start point of the zodiac - and thus too the finish line of the preceding cycle - confers this place with a sense of investiture. Here once more we are initiated. 2020 style we are all being impacted. No one escapes this revolution, though perhaps we now understand why it should not be televised.

As we fairly hurtle to the end of the astrological year and our equinox balancing act looks increasingly wobbly, we would do well to sagely count our chickens. There are influences aplenty at play, each wielding a peculiar magic whose combined weight is staggering.

We are wobbling towards Thursday's tipping point as equinox and another initiatory full moon combine and it feels nothing like a journey to balance. More likely its wild opposite, as mighty forces continue this week to ensure we feel the full effect of our world so sorely beyond equilibrium.

Can you feel the three fates at play in your life? Past, present and future are always knitted together, a function of one another whose tendrils extend far beyond our myopia. But with the curtains yanked back and the veils thinning as we move towards this week's equinox and full moon, you can fairly hear the spindle and the rhythmic beat of its pedal as it spins the wheel.

And so the wheel turns once more, this eve at 3.15am Wollombi time when the sun storms into the firebrand go-getter energy of Aries. Crossing the equator as he goes, the sun king delivering our equinox tipping point when day and night are of equal length. Our Northern friends begin to rise and stretch into Spring as here in the South we begin the descent towards the dark cauldron days of Winter.

The equinox beckoning from the other side of the weekend and we are finally beginning to feel the clarity that comes with her balancing, or at least the promise of it. Some of the puzzle pieces are wafting into view and we can steal long moments to gaze on what we are pointing the bow of our little ship towards.