September brings Virgo into the ripening fields. The season is beginning to turn, and suddenly there are choices to make. What’s ready to harvest? What needs more time? What is already past its prime? Virgo arrives at just this moment with one of her greatest gifts: discernment. The eyes of this Virgin Goddess are honest and appraising. The smallest detail won’t escape her. Virgo helps you see what’s actually there.
I remember one late summer on an Oregon back road, walking past blackberry bushes heavy with ripening fruit. A few pickers were out with their Tupperware bowls, so absorbed in their task they barely noticed me. I stopped to pick a few myself. Berry picking requires concentration. If you don’t move carefully, the thorns will harvest you, grabbing your clothes and dragging you into the bush. To do it right, you have to work the Virgo way: unhurried and absorbed, with an otherwise quiet mind.
Your eyes will tell you a lot. Leave the red berries alone. Scan for those whose purple is so intense it’s almost black. If the berry looks like it’s about to burst, it’s a good candidate. If it has the sad look of a deflated tire, you’re too late. Study the finish. The ripe ones are neither too shiny nor too dull. Out of fifty berries, you spot a likely candidate. Now comes the real test. Tug on it. If it instantly releases into your hand, it will be delicious. If you have to tug a second or third time—if you yank it from the stem—it will repay you with a tart explosion. “Ha!” it says, as your mouth endures a sour rush. “You can’t fool Mother Nature.”
I wish I could tell you that I only pick the ones that are ready. More often than I can count, I’ve yanked the ones my eyes have determined should be ready. I eat them and get the appropriate reward for my impatience. It’s surprisingly easy to do the same thing with the rest of your life. You decide something should be ready. The project should be moving. The answer should be clear. The relationship should have changed. You tug. It doesn’t release. So you tug harder.
Virgo asks you to look again. There is a difference between what should be ready and what is. There are things that need your effort now, things that have already passed their moment, and things that need another week in the sun. Discernment means noticing the difference.
As the Virgo New Moon arrives, take a look at your own September fields. And do this in a very Virgo way: make some lists. Take a blank sheet of paper and consider these three questions:
- What is ripe? What is ready to be gathered, finished, used, enjoyed? The tomatoes on the vine? A project that’s nearly done? Something you’ve been saving for a special occasion?
- What needs more time? Where are you tugging at something that doesn’t want to release? A decision you can’t quite make? A conversation you’re not ready to have? An idea that still needs to simmer?
- What is past its prime? What have you been tending, storing, pursuing, or worrying over that you can finally let go? Clothes you never wear? A task that’s no longer worth doing? A hope or obligation you’ve quietly outgrown?
Every year in late summer, Virgo gives me another chance to keep learning: how to harvest more wisely in my life. She reminds me to tug on only those things that are truly ripe. And then—let everything else take its sweet time.
If you’d like to live in closer conversation with the Sun, Moon, and zodiac, you might just love my Moon Workshop. Each New Moon begins a fresh cycle of reflection, discovery, and practice—a way to deepen your relationship with these guardians of natural time. Learn more and enroll here!


Dear Dana, I’ve so enjoyed dipping into your site over the last few years and was truly nearly blown away in reading you are an Oxy alum, as am I—though a few decades before you —class of 1955.. I rarely get back on campus as I was most fortunate in receiving a “foreign exchange scholarship, went to the University of Stockholm for a year, Over Christmas holidays went skiing in Germany, met a U.S. Army soldier, from Memphis, Tennessee, we corresponded,, we both went home to our respective states, and visited each other, I returned to Oxy, graduated, we married and I became a Memphian