“I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that hunts, but one that fills up the cry.”
Rodrigo in Shakespeare’s Othello (II.iii.266)
Horoscopes for 9-29-2026
Mercury into Scorpio 9/30 6:45 AM
Venus RX 8° Scorpio 10/3 2:16 AM
Venus conjunct Mercury 8° Scorpio 10/6 6:11 PM
Horoscopes for 9-29-2026
Year overview, in short: the long form.
Libra
Happy birthday. Think about revising a previous plan. Think about revising a previous given comprehension. Think about revisions to current understandings of the way things are, and see if there is a new way think about the way things appear to be. The trick is appearances, grasp of elemental pieces, and how these all fit togerther as an underpinning to the root causes (and conditions). It’s, like, consider life, right now, Libra Life, like a giant jigsaw puzzle. At the moment, you can easily see the completed picture, but the rest of the 11 signs? We’re not so sure. Sure, you can see it in your Libra mind’s eye, but the rest of us? We’re not so clear. That means pause and let us catch up, pause and let us assimilate, or just wait until our mental gears turn fast enough to see what you see. Pause. Revise a plan, and then, maybe, revise that schedule since everyone else is moving too slow. Happy birthday.
Scorpio
Comes along at times like this, and exacerbated by the retrograde Venus? “I just have to tell you what I did; it was so awful, but I must confess to someone…” Typical Scorpio comment from times like this, Venus and Mercury with the little cosmic tag. The trick? My great idea? My simple Scorpio suggestion?
Nothing. There’s a desire to confess, to take ownership for that one, really horrible thing you might’ve done. Might not, might’ve been Scorpio adjacent, but whatever. What–ever. But blurting out a Scorpio confession, really, or imagined, at this time? Not a good idea. “But I am so very sorry for what happened! It was all my fault!” Confession might be good for the soul, but confusing what’s yours, Scorpio, and what belongs to fate? Best idea yet? Be quiet. We’ll see who is really guilty in a week or two. Or three. Four or even six weeks away. Sit on it for a spell.
Sagittarius
A period like this, up and coming, with Mercury, Venus, and so forth? I tend to get a little inwardly reflective. Pardon me if this gets maudlin. But I was thinking back, and there was a time in my life when I was growing at an exponential rate, and the clothes that I liked, the clothing that fit, that one pair of jeans? I would outgrow those in matter of months. Everything fits and then, everything gets tighter and tighter, until it’s too small to fit into. What used to fit, like that adolescence I would rather forget? What used to fit doesn’t fit anymore. Or it’s too tight. Or too loose. Can go either way, and it might be getting too baggy to wear, never can tell. Whatever it is, feels like it doesn’t fit? I don’t know if “jettison” is the correct term, but retire might be. Or save for a possible future use.
Capricorn
There’s an investment in time. All that’s required? It’s an investment in time. Not money, not goods, not lands or even chattels, but a simple investiture of quantum time itself. In one setting, I pointed out that there was problem that only cubic dollars could fix, and this week’s Capricorn is reminder that it’s not dollars, but time. The original idea stemmed from the theory of 10,000 hours. Spend 10,000 hours doing a particular task, and one if bound to be good at it. I can validate some of that, I spent more than that on the edge of the lake, perfecting a certain technique. So, in my mind, that holds up. This isn’t about fishing, though, or maybe it is, depends on the Capricorn, but it about spending the time to get better at a certain task. That goal? In order to reach that goal? Spend the time to get better, or, as I suggested before, “It’s a simple investment in time.’
Aquarius
Woke up, rolled out of bed, and wanted to fight. Woke up angry, even? Was minding my own business, and an Aquarius wanted to fight with me. “I don’t like your last horoscope, and the one this week makes no damn sense. Come over here and defend yourself!” The ire, the Aquarius ire traces back to Mercury slipping into Scorpio. While this is a fleeting influence, the fixed nature of Scorpio and Aquarius suggest that you can get dug in on one point, a single issue, a poignant prickly problem, and instead of moving on, staying, spoiling for a fight. Is that degree of ire really necessary? “It’s the principle!” As the influxes recedes from Aquarius sight, is it really the principle, or are you just looking to argue with someone?
Pisces
Many years distant, I used to buy “printer paper” by the crate. Maybe ten reams of paper in a single box, and that crate might last a few months. Maybe a year, but at the time, not really? Eventually, I transitioned to a more “paperless” kind of delivery, advent of the web and related technologies. It’s not something that I do much, if at all. I think I’ve printed two or three letters in the last years, more as an anomaly rather than as something I would regularly do. I submit copy for publication via e-mail. It’s been a long, strange road that’s got me where I am. I still have a couple of reams of paper leftover from that last purchase, might be near a decade old. Ask your Pisces self if you need to haul that heavy paper around with yourself, these days. Does the weight and cost justify toting that extra crap around?
Aries
Soon, like this coming weekend? Venus and Mercury might be visible on the western horizon, shortly before and after nightfall. In the wintering twilight, just above the horizon, especially this coming weekend, there’s Mercury and Venus, shining a way. For Aries? This is about managing some of your assets in manner of speaking, and it’s about how you communicate — Mercury is communications — it’s about how you communicate about what’s going on in your Aries brain. It’s about how you tell us — or how you don’t tell us — what’s happening. The evening stars suggest a more refined approach.
Taurus
I have various plastic tubs filled with collected odd bits of electrical and professional arcana. Ephemera left over from decades of horoscopes, fishing, and traveling. I kept thinking I had the perfect, it was an extra connection cord going from a device to a device, and it needed to be about this long, and I was sure that I had just such a cord. Connector. Thing. I dug through the first box of cables, and wondered who left them is such a disarray, and that would be me, as no one else digs through my old wires and cables box. Then, not finding what I was looking for, I opened up the second container, a plastic tub with a sealed top, and dug through those cables. Found an audio cable I’ve been looking for, but no, didn’t find the original cable I was seeking. I put everything back in the boxes, sealed them up, then thought about it. The first box, I didn’t really dig all the way to the bottom, just sort of rummaged around the top layer, cables, power cords, and data transfer wires. Old hard drive connectors. I turned that crate upside down, and carefully started layering everything back in, in a semblance of an organized pattern. One of the last items I came across was the original cable, the quest that started this mess. It’s always the last place you look, but I did find it.
Gemini
I’m not much of a “bird watcher,” so to speak. From the parrots in old East Austin to a visit from a falcon, to me, arguing with an owl one night while I was fishing? I was pulling a top water lure through the lake and an owl tried to swoop in to grab the bait. Anyway, I’m not really much of a bird watcher, but I am occasionally fascinated with the modern intersection of population, civilization, humanity, and nature. The most common birds of prey are usually a pair of nesting hawks in the neighborhood, and itinerant Mexican Eagles, some of the most majestic and regal-looking birds I’ve seen, the Crested Cara-Cara. But the other morning, perched on a power pole, a smaller hawk took wing. Gliding off between the neighbors’ trees, I watched, and then, afterwards, thought I should get an image with my phone. Too late, gone. But it was an adolescent hawk, a teenager hawk, and watching him, or her, glide off was remarkable in its own right. All I had to do was look up. Look in direction I normally don’t look. For Gemini? Look up. Look around. Maybe glance back over your shoulder; look behind you. But look someplace you don’t usually cast your gaze. Never know what might be the reward, like a an adolescent bird of prey.
Cancer
Left over from a trailer park in old south Austin, I adopted a rather “Darwinian” approach to gardening. If it lives, then I let it live. If it dies? Then it just wasn’t strong enough to survive my vacillating rounds of over-watering and drought, daily ministrations followed by weeks of aversion. Too much then too little, sometimes, nothing. So far, the winners have been rosemary, mint in various flavors, and cayenne peppers. We’re entering October, and we’re on the backside of the moon phase, so let’s get ready for either a fall planting, or putting the beds down for the winter. Kind of depends on location, for that one, but the idea is now, sometime in this next week, we’re getting ready for the winter. Here? Where I live? I’m still in shorts and sandals although some of the evenings have cooled off a bit. Clean up, clean out, and get ready. This week, though is more like clean up and clean out. Get ready to get ready?
The Leo
Only two or three times have I seen a Shakespeare play in black box style. Just the players, minimal costume, even more minimal props, just the actors, the lines, and the staging. There’s an immediate intimacy that it brings about, at least, it has for me, nearly sitting in the scenes themselves, and then, the power of the actors, the worlds, the movement on stage, and the pantomime quality to the setting wherein imagination, evoked by the players, fills the stage. I was reading a theatre review about a current, lavish production someplace, and I realized the most moving plays I’ve seen have always been the ones where the actors themselves carry the message. Lighting, acting, and make-believe props, some of the most powerful stuff I’ve ever experienced. This is proof that The Leo doesn’t need an extensive production, cast, or support in order to pul this off properly. Just black box theatre style is all it takes. Done well, and now is the time to rehearse so it is done well, but properly acted? No need for extraneous crap. Basics. Stick to basics. In another way of thinking? Do one thing well.
Virgo
Don’t get in an all fired-up hurry, you hear? Sometime language helps, and that is intonation that best comes out as a drawl. Slow, southern-fried, fraught with a warning that can either be warm or menacing. There’s no need to get to hurried about getting it done, and I’m not even sure that you’re even sure what it is that needs to be done in such a hurry. There’s a sense of urgency, an innate drive to make this “Get done sooner rather than later,” and the best reminder for Gentle Virgo is there no need for that kind of sloppy, swift action. Old rub, old saw, tired aphorism, “Hurry slowly,” festinare lente in ancient Latin. That echoes along my neural pathways, looking at your charts for the week ahead. Said in Latin, sounds ominous and provocative, a warning of deep meaning. It’s really a simple, kind of tired, expression, but the translation carries it.
