The New Moon in Cardinal Water conjoined Castor on the 14th of July 2026 at 10:43 am BST
Cover Art by Abraham van Calraet
Lost to circuitous thoughts and soaked to the skin by saudade, he sat motionless, his hands loose on the reins, as his Mustang sorrowed through the roots, the trees so close that the morning arrived late, the light tentatively coming through in pieces.
Eoin had lain in the cacophonous dark, unable to hear his own breathing for the mourners in his mind whose keening echoed like a military drummer, beating, beating until his mind was numbed. Rising pre-dawn, he saddled his horse and rode towards the River, praying that its ionised babbling would mute the death-metal bands’ screams.
Seamus passaged his horse through open grass, the sky wide above it, the light falling clean and unhurried across the ground. His eyes half closed, having spent the witching hours lost to reflection, hands feathering the Medicine Hat, as she wayfared towards the River. Silently intoning an ‘O’, holding her centre in his mind’s eye, he visualised a ball of blue-white light surrounded her, encasing her in a protective aura, as he envisioned her going about her everyday life.
Pausing at a fallen branch, the Mustang whinnied, exhaling a long ‘M’ that shuddered through Eoin’s root and into his belly, shaking him out of his reverie. Watching the light shift through the canopy above him, rearranging itself with each breath of wind, he thought that this was the thing about feeling- it moved the way light moves through leaves, constant and inconstant simultaneously, never the same twice, never entirely gone.
The Medicine Hat crested a small rise and the world opened in every direction. Out here the light fell on everything equally, the grass and the stone and the big blue. Smiling, Seamus stretched out his hand to touch the sky, releasing a long ‘O’ as he sent out his prayer towards her.
Christ, I can’t find a way to make it work, Eoin sighed. Am I not seeing something? I’ve run the figures, I’ve looked at the pros and cons from every conceivable angle. I’ve considered all possibilities and I’m still at a loss. Maybe it is just not to be.
Trust and be patient, Seamus exclaimed. All things will find their way, if you just get out of the way and let them be. Clear yourself, your mind, your desire, your hope. And just trust.
Again the Mustang nickered, Eoin feeling that ‘M’ tremolo through him. Why is life so damn cruel? What I have done to deserve this pain.
Seamus felt the Medicine Hat’s stride opening beneath him as the ground widened, her hooves barely troubling the grass. The balsamic Moon caught his eye as a sullen monolith cast a shrouded veil. It reminded him of the lustrelessness of her oceans, a flat grey to what was once a luscious verdant. He simply held her in light all the way home, praying silently that she might choose whatever served her highest interest.
The canopy thickened, the way laboured by strewn trees, We work so well together. She’s such an inspiration. It’s no wonder that corporate want her at head office. But it is impossible for me to leave or to put in a request for a transfer. I just can’t let it all go.
The Medicine Hat banked left along the ridge, her mane lifting, Seamus feeling the air change against his face he approached the valley. Loinnir danced on the river far beneath and in that ruithne reatha he saw her spirit whole, untouched by the grief that was currently breaking her. Yes, she is the tonic to which his discordant world resolved. But seeing her this way, bright and unburdened, was the only way he knew how to love her without demanding anything in return.
Art by Posterly Studio
The Mustang moved through a shaft of light that broke sudden and generous through the canopy, and Eoin rode through it with his face upturned, feeling its warmth across his closed eyelids, the red dark behind them pulsing, and for a moment the mourners quieted, the drummer lowered his sticks. He could hear the purling of the River, a soothing balm to his fractured soul. Breathing deeply in, he exhaled a long, weighty sigh, toning a lengthy ‘O’ that echoed through his cavernous chest.
The descent grew tighter, the treeline thickened, the burble of the River growing in pitch with every forward step, the light now flickering as the Medicine Hat slowed, navigating the undulating terrain with utmost concentration. Seamus’ body trembled as the mare let out a whinny, the ‘M’ shuddering through his torso, chattering his jaw.
As the trees thinned and the ground dropped, the buffer that dampened the rushing of the River fell away and Eoin was enveloped by such a limpid tone that it opened up his heart. A single droplet of his heart streamed down his cheek. He felt his mouth open and another O rose through him unbidden, moving up through his belly, through the cavity of his chest, through the long column of his throat, out into the morning air and toward the water.
Lost now to circuitous thoughts, Seamus sat motionless, his hands loose on the reins, as his Medicine Hat sorrowed through the roots, the trees so close, the light tentatively coming through in pieces. It hit him. Deeply. A spirit that lives in this world and does not wear the shirt of love, does not get to truly know the Presence of love. Yes, you can love from afar and want the best for another. But to connect, to hold, to taste the substance of love as well as ache, grieve and break under loves physical absence is to know love.
The trees fell away entirely and the river’s polyphonic voice filled the air with ionised light that enlivened him to his core. The Mustang walked to the bank, bent his head and supped deeply. Dismounting, Eoin too cupped his hands and drank from the light. Perhaps this connection is more than physical. Perhaps she was present to open me to a place previously unknown. Perhaps I am being selfish wanting her for myself, after all those blocks maybe in place for reasons yet unknown. Perhaps I can keep her presence in my heart and call upon our exchange to continue this path that she has opened for me. Maybe she was meant to open me up?
Another whinny, another shuddering ‘M’ encouraged Seamus to dismount and lead his mare through the arbour verge. The enlivening anima sent a shiver down his spine as he drew in the vapour and let out a deep, sonorous plaint. I’ll miss her presence, as a single droplet of his heart streamed down his cheek.
Eoin sat with his hand on his chest. He felt her presence held inside him.
Seamus sat with his hand on his chest. He felt the heavy fracture of her absence.
Art by Sydney Smith
Rising they walked a little along the shore, following the meandering contour, lost to their contemplation. The river narrowed as the banks drew near, its voice dropping into a low, resonant frequency that thrummed through the soles of their boots. The river narrowed where the banks drew near, the water dropping its voice to a low, resonant frequency. Eoin pursed his lips and let out a whistle. Startled by the high pitch, Seamus lifted his head and saw, across the water, his brother.
Their eyes met.
Fine morning for it.
It is indeed.
You okay?
I’m grand. You?
Yep.
I heard you.
And I you.
Thanks.
No bother. Thank you.
Sure. No bother.
Nothing more to say, all else taken by the current, their eyes saying everything, they turned from each other and continued their walk.
Ní bheidh a leithéid arís ann.
Completed on the 4th of July at 11:11 am BST
Music by Chris de Burgh, Colm Mac Con Iomaire and Radiohead
