Our Celestial Bodies

The sun has got his hat on, and the whole of the UK is out sun-bathing, or so it seems. The media is full of photos of crowded beaches, a blur of colour – sun hats and swimming costumes – as far as the eye can see. And then, as I was walking in a wild flower meadow today, the drifts of buttercups and campions, dandelions and clover gave me the same impression: a wash of colour as they sunbathed too. Their blooms orient to the sun and shift position throughout the day, allowing for maximum exposure so that sunlight can be absorbed and converted via photosynthesis into energy for their own growth; similarly we too shift throughout the day, exposing first one side, then the other to the sun, gently spit-roasting ourselves in the rays, which we convert into vitamin D, so essential for the healthy bones that support us.

Not for the first time, I have noticed how much more energetic I am when the sun is shining. I get a hundred-and-one jobs done outside: the veg patch gets weeded, the compost turned, the paths are mown and the seedlings potted up. I get up earlier and stay out later, because I have more energy: I am solar powered! And it's not just me – I notice smiles on the faces of friends as they cycle past to go for a high-tide swim at the local harbour, I get a friendly hello from dog-walkers and farmers as they go about their daily rounds. This is not always the case; quite often, on a dull, cold day, little more than a grunt is forthcoming. And this is because we can be 'under the weather' and feeling a bit dismal. There are many weather-related idoms – or 'old wive's tales' as they are also known – we make hay when the sun shines, we take a rain-check when we can't do something, we shoot the breeze when we converse with friends, and come rain or shine, these idoms always contain a grain of truth. And the truth is, we are part of Nature, and so we are intimately interconnected with all aspects of Gaia, and indeed the Cosmos, whether we know it or not.

The fire of the sun energises us – of that, there is no doubt. Like the poppies of the cornfields, we respond to it and we grow: our plans take shape and our dreams become reality. And if one celestial body can visibly energise and revitalise us, is it any great leap of imagination to consider that the other great orb in the firmament – which has graced us as a super-moon in recent days – can do the same? If the moon can influence the tidal bodies of water to such a great degree – ten metres or so in these parts – is it not obvious that she influences us too, being composed as we are, of 60% water? Lunatics were vilified in times past, and yet these humans were only expressing a palpable change in their energy, which coincided with the phases of the moon. Now we might call them empaths, and celebrate their sensitivity.

To me, it follows that as the sun and moon undoubtedly affect us in myriad ways, then why not Venus or Mars? Perhaps our forebears who studied the heavens and related certain aspects of our behaviour to the astrological positions of the time, knew far more than we give them credit for. They were not side-tracked by movies or social media, but spent all the time in the world reaching for the stars.