Twice each year, Earth, Sun and Moon come into such a relationship that one of the celestial bodies blocks the other and an eclipse ensues. This will always only ever happen when the Moon is at New Phase, standing between the Earth and the Sun and blocking our view, or at Full Phase, when the Moon is on the opposite side of the Earth from the Sun and it slips into the Earth’s shadow.
Once each year, we pass through the peak of the Perseid Meteor Shower, around August 12th.
This week, the final eclipse season of the year begins, with a New Moon solar eclipse Wednesday, August 12th, that coincides with the date of the Perseid’s peak, which lends an exponential quality to the relationship between Earth and sky ~ and to our place in it all.
Let’s start with the meteor shower. It’s called the Perseids for the constellation radiant, which is the point in the sky from which the stars fall through the sky. The ancient Greeks had a dramatic story about the birth of Perseus that goes something like this:
King Acrisius had a lovely daughter, Danaë, but he longed for a son so he asked the oracle at Delphi ~ but as is often the case when seeking insight into the future, he received unwanted news: the oracle prophesied that not only would he not have a son, but his daughter Danaë would have a son that would slay him. Once he heard this prophesy, he built a brass vault in the Earth and imprisoned his daughter there. But Zeus happened by, and transforming himself into a shower of golden stars, he rained down upon Danaë, which led to her pregnancy and the birth of Perseus.
Sophocles described it this way:
“So too endured Danae in her beauty to change the light of the sky for brass-bound walls, and in that chamber, both burial and bridal, she was held in strict confinement. And yet was she of esteemed lineage … and guarded a deposit of the seed of Zeus that had fallen in a golden rain.”
What mystery were the Greeks pointing to in this myth? To be captive not on the Earth, but in the Earth, and yet open and vulnerable to the starry skies, homelands of the gods. The meteor shower was active in that ancient era, and it’s likely the Greeks perceived how essential the stars were, not only to the Earth’s fertility, but to human fertility and capacity, and in aligning the shower to Perseus, to heroic strength and courage.
And now comes an eclipse on the very same day, primarily speeding south along the Atlantic.
At eclipse, it’s possible to imagine the Earth is like Danaë under the stars, cast into shadow and yet receptive to the influence of the stars.
And note, this eclipse will not be totally visible from North America, but it does mean there’s an exceptional forecast for the meteor shower, because the Moon won’t be visible.
Here are the moments to be aware of, if you’re of a mind to find the ways that your life aligns with the harmony of the cosmos (all times here are eastern daylight time; here’s a link for finding times in your zone):
On Wednesday, August 12, the waning crescent Moon will rise at 6:19 am. It won’t be visible because it is already too close to the Sun, which will rise shortly after, at 6:39 am. So at dawn, the two great lights are above the horizon, moving toward eclipse, which starts at 1:04 pm in the eastern time zone. Maximum eclipse occurs at 1:35 pm, when the Moon comes exactly New, and then the whole thing is over by 2:05 pm.
That evening, the Sun will set just a few minutes before the Moon, around 8:40 pm. Then it’s time for the meteor shower.
So make a plan now. If you’re up by the time Moon and Sun rise, pause, take in the sky, listen to what’s happening in the natural world around you. Consider where you’ll be and what you’ll be doing when the eclipse is underway, between 1 and 2 pm. Think of the things in your life that could use the fertilizing touch of starlight. Where are you like Danaë, with an epic destiny that is yet being thwarted.
Next step, sunset time, when Sun and Moon leave the stage, ushering in the light, the night, and the half light. Where will you watch the meteor shower? With whom? What wishes do you have to cast up to the homelands of the gods, who, according the Claudius Ptolemy in the 1st century AD, are most likely to come true at such a time because, during a meteor shower, the gods look earthward and are thereby more likely to grant favor to wishes of good will.
The more abundantly we fill our thought life and our activity with the natural rhythms of the world, the greater harmony and we can achieve. There is an ennobling quality that results from experiencing the rich majesty of the world to which we belong. We are an integral part of the world’s becoming, and the natural world is doing all it can to show us this truth.
Here’s Tennyson, and excerpt from his lyric narrative poem The Princess because poetry is always a terrific doorway through which to encounter the stars:
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font.
The firefly wakens; waken thou with me.
Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake.
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.
~Mary
Hear this week’s episode of The Storyteller’s Night Sky on podcast here, or wherever you listen.