Today feels extra special - our new moon arrives on the eve of the equinox and brings with it a partial eclipse.

 

I can feel the season changing…can you? Here in the Pacific Northwest, pear and apple trees hang heavy with fruit. Pumpkins grow fat in the fields on Sauvie Island and in neighborhood gardens. The light is changing. The air is, too. This morning, on a walk with a friend, it smelled like magic - fresh bread, wild fennel, decaying leaves, and wood smoke.

 

I’m so ready for the slow waltz into the dark of autumn and winter. I love the verdant energy of spring and the blaze of glory that is summer…but fall is heaven to me. Give me rainy walks, mushroom hunts, chonky squirrels, and cozy gatherings with soups, teas, tinctures, and pies. 

 

Give me low and slow and turning inward.

 

Speaking of turning inward, I don’t know if I’ve shared this with you before, but I view the new moon as a sort of partner in reflection and intention-setting. What seeds do I want to sew and tend as the moon waxes to full? What’s working - and what’s no longer serving? These letters were born from that practice, actually.

 

It also inspired me to create a lunar calendar for the coming year. I'd already been working on a piece called Small Joys, and it felt so fitting to bring its message into a daily reminder for the year ahead. 

I’m thrilled to share the 2026 Small Joys Lunar Calendar with you.

 

The calendar is available in two ways:

I’m so excited to share this with you and I hope it brings sweetness and magic to your year ahead.

Before we go, two recent delights:

 

1. What I'm listening to while working.

2. This very short and very good documentary. 

 

If you have anything you're loving lately, please share!

As always, thank you very much for being here.

 

Until the next new moon,

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