
In Leo’s season, we celebrate the magic of creation and the miracle of spirit. It’s Leo’s ruler, the Sun, that makes life itself possible. And so, in its honor, we set about making what we can from what we have and know, from what’s been gestated in Cancer’s oven.
Baby creatures are the purest expression of Leo New Moon magic. They land in our worlds as blank slates, and with every word and gesture we tell them what we think they are. We imagine, rightly or not, that we’re summoning their true spirits by the names we give them and the stories we project onto them.
Our young neighbors just welcomed their first child, a baby girl. Wisely, I thought, they kept the baby’s name a secret from even their families before she was born. No point having dozens of people projecting a story onto this little person before she’d even met her parents.
Whether we offer a body to a human child, a loving home to a pet, a voice to a song, or a pen to a story, we don’t create spirit – only the forms through which it can express itself.

We welcomed two small cats into our household last week. Toby is tiny, bubbly, and uncomplicated, no more than two months old, a dazzling, playful Sun prince who brings only joy to the table. Violet is a couple of months older, and she is sweet, affectionate, and delightful. But her skittishness and territorialism are scars from a dicey former life. We spend endless, tender hours with her, trying to convince her she’s loved and safe. She’ll grow calmer and more confident, but Violet may always be a slightly shadowed spirit, a bundle of pure love that was exposed to darkness too soon.
Each year, at the Leo New Moon, we’re called to plant seeds of ecstatic love and joy. Those seeds may take the form of tentative steps toward romance, or starting a band or a new business, or even welcoming tiny creatures – the heart made visible – into our homes. But we have to remember that the New Moon is a dark, uncertain phase, even when it’s basking in Leo’s glowing fire. When you plant seeds of joy, you can’t know exactly what will come of them. They may fail to germinate at all. And if they do, even if they flourish, it’s certain that they’ll know dark days, too. Days of flood or of dry, crackling heat. Days of disappointment, disagreements, disillusionment, sometimes even death.
The stronger the Sun shines, the heavier the shadow.

When a couple marry, the ceremony usually invokes the darkness of new beginnings – better or worse, richer or poorer, until death parts us. Two people in their late twenties, on such a glorious, happy, sunny day, can easily agree to these terms, because darkness seems impossibly far away in your twenties. But if the couple are older, we’re moved by their bravery. The darker parts of life’s journey are gaining on them, yet they insist on giving themselves over to light and to love.
The dark side of our kitten adventure is that next year, my husband and I will turn 70 and 60. That’s old to become parents of tiny creatures. Violet and Toby may be my last baby cats, my last chance to pour this kind of love and devotion into growing happy, well-adjusted creatures. We brought these two home knowing that there is a good chance they could outlive one or both of us. After all, our last cats lived 17 years, with expensive health issues for the last decade. So, we thought long and hard about taking on this commitment.
But in the end, it couldn’t be helped. There was never a real chance of a “no.” Because when you have seeds of love, you have no choice but to sow them, tend them, and take joy in watching them grow.
I found with past pets that the first month or two set the stage for everything that followed. This formula seems to work well applied to anything your heart embraces at this Leo New Moon: Give it a beautiful beginning. Shine all of the sun that you can upon it. Make it the center of your solar system. Then, when the time is right, step back into the shadows and watch it shine with its own joyous light.
Writing and collages © 2020 April Elliott Kent
Jen and I explore all the week’s highlights in our latest podcast episode,
39 | Leo New Moon: A Rainbow at Daybreak
