I’ve been roving, which is what I do and who I am.

I headed west to the U.S. I went to the Fall Womonwrites conference south of Atlanta, and was inspired by my friend Kathleen Culver’s wonderful first book of poetry. In Bethesda, I took a million pictures of my gorgeous granddaughter. I checked on my dad, and met his new roommate. Meanwhile, my lover’s job took her all over Latin America, a different hotel every night.

Now we’re back together and back home, and my roving is more local. Yesterday, I found a beautiful little walking path a few blocks from our apartment. The path was blanketed in tiny red-gold leaves, and there were a few more clinging to the trees above my head. To my left was a cemetery, each plot a small world of cut flowers, clipped hedges and small poignant trees.

The cemetery was neat, miniature, like everything in Germany. I even came upon a priest and a small group of mourners, around a gravesite. It was just what was needed, no more, to insure a smooth passage to the next life.

After living in the Americas most of my life, Europe does seem very neat and self-contained. I wonder if I will become more modest and unassuming, living here. Will I lop off all my rough American edges?

The weather seems quaint too, like something from an old story by the Brothers Grimm. Now, from my balcony, I can see the crows roosting in bare branches. There are puffs of smoke, from someone’s fire, in front of the narrow church steeple. I admire the orange, the gold, the rust tones, echoed by the dark red of the roof-tiles.

The new moon in November occurs in Scorpio, the sign of death and regeneration. As the darkness increases, it’s a time to look inside, to dip into the deeper currents. What is lurking in our own private shadows? In November, we go down and investigate all this, and we become familiar with the nooks and crannies of our own psyches.

There’s a slow dissolve going on in November as well, with Neptune squaring the new moon on November 9. Neptune is the planet of uncertainty, ambivalence, fog and confusion, and so nothing is all that clear this month. The darkness settles, and we see curious shapes here and there, but we are not quite sure what they are. The familiar becomes strange.

Neptune in Aquarius can mean accidents involving air and water, so this is a good time to walk carefully. It’s easy to lose one’s footing in the mist. Sometimes you can find yourself going around in circles.

Neptune’s square to the new moon can also mean shifting allegiances, and it may be hard to know who is on your side and who isn’t. Why are the top defense contractors donating more money to Democrats than Republicans? What secret schemes in the White House might take the US to war with Iran? In November, there are layers of lies and intrigues, and the deeper truth is below.

In addition, Mars, the planet of war, goes retrograde in November. This tends to resurrect old hurts and grievances, so it can add fuel to ongoing wars. In the eddying fog of Neptune, it’s a dangerous influence. It’s possible to find that you’re really sinking, when all the time you thought you were swimming. This is how the war in Iraq looks to more people every day.

Mars is changing direction right on top of GWB’s sun, so he may be a bit more reckless. The tempestuous impulses of Mars will flow directly to his ego, and strengthen his desire to be the ultimate winner in every battle.

At the same time, Bush is entering into a three-month period of obstacles, delays, inhibitions and frustrations, since Saturn is about to conjunct his natal Mars. As strongly invested as he is in winning, events won’t help him along. At every turn, he’ll run into the caution and pragmatism of Saturn in Virgo. Hopefully, what this will mean is that funds won’t be all that readily available for blowing things up, or for new invasions.

It continues to look like a challenging time for GWB. Conceivably, Saturn’s conjunction to his Mars could mean impeachment, but it could also indicate a more minor thwarting of his will – or even just breaking his ankle. It makes him much less effective and forceful, one way or another. He won’t be able to duke it out the way he wants to. Thank goodness for Saturn, the Crone planet, the planet of limitation and restriction, the karmic leveler.

Saturn in Virgo is at home with the shadows and mystery of the Scorpio new moon. The Scorpio new moon takes you down to the cellars of your consciousness, and Saturn in Virgo is like a broom, sweeping out all the cobwebs down below. It becomes clear which of your primeval patterns are working for you, and which are just taking you around and around in endless circles.

Saturn is also at home with the retrograde Mars, since both emphasize the past. Mars suggests that we do something about old unresolved problems, especially the ones that still have a strong emotional charge. Saturn in Virgo is the healer, and she coolly and clinically surveys the gaping wounds of old hostilities, and finds the right herbal balm to soothe them. Then she teaches you to do things differently, so that you don’t keep banging yourself up, knocking your head against the wall.

One night last week, I dreamed about the Mean Servant, and I know that was Saturn in Virgo too. The Mean Servant is the archetypical figure who is supposed to serve you, to keep everything neat and orderly, but instead ends up tyrannizing you with her endless plans and schedules and demands. We can’t do it perfectly, and we can’t spend every minute working. There are times when we have to turn away from Saturn in Virgo’s eternal, exacting sense of duty.

Saturn is not comfortable with the dizzying confusion of Neptune in Aquarius, and Neptune has a very strong hold on all of us in November. Neptune’s confusion comes from a longing to meld with the cosmos, to merge into beautiful and blissful oneness. Neptune is very idealistic, especially in the air sign Aquarius.

And so she and Saturn in Virgo have a constant quarrel. Saturn says, “No, it can’t be done. It’s impractical,” while Neptune dares to dream. There is something hypnotic about November, and dreams will take hold. We may do important work in the dreaming state. We may solve all of the world problems, theoretically speaking.

And then it’s just up to Saturn in Virgo to do the methodical and precise work of actualizing dreams. Not too much of anything, but just enough. Saturn begins small, giving her skill and attention and good sense to each task. She takes all those chaotic, formless dreams and turns them into wood, and paper, and bone, and bread. This is how she forms the new world.

Index of Jenny Yates' Writings on Lesbian.com