A Destin, Florida writer connects precise planetary alignments to shark sightings and internal emotional shifts, arguing that celestial changes mirror local life and water energy.

The question is simple: Why does a column about planetary alignment in Destin, Florida, end up in an Aspen newspaper?
It’s because the writer isn’t just watching the stars. She’s watching the water.
In “Moon Mondays: Swimming with Jaws,” the author describes standing on the shore in what she calls the “supposed shark capital of the world.” She’s waiting for the sun to set, the moon to rise, and the crescent moon to conjunct Venus. It’s a specific moment, timed to the minute. Mars enters Taurus at 6:25 p.m. Venus shifts into Cancer at 7:05 p.m. The moon joins them at 7:46 p.m. By 7:50 p.m., the alignment is exact.
That’s a tight window. Less than two hours for three celestial bodies to change their positions relative to each other.
The writer doesn’t treat this as superstition. She treats it as context. She references Hermes Trismegistus and the Emerald Tablets to argue that what happens above corresponds to what happens below. The heavens serve as a mirror. The energy in the water matches the energy in the sky.
This matters for locals because it changes how we view our own routines. We worry about traffic on US-6. We worry about property values in the valley. We worry about whether the snowpack will hold. This column suggests that the same forces moving Mars into Taurus — grounding, slowing things down — are affecting our internal state. It’s not magic. It’s perspective.
The writer is currently in Destin, Fla. She’s un-landlocked for the first time in a while. She’s hoping for clear skies. She’s hoping to see fins cresting the waves. She wants the “dun dun… dun dun” from Jaws to cue the sunset.
It’s a strange juxtaposition. Astrology and shark sightings. Venus and fins. But the logic holds. Taurus slows Mars down. Cancer makes us feelers. The moon and Venus uniting is a “starring role” in ancient mythology, symbolizing the goddess Inanna reclaiming her power after death and rebirth.
If you overlay the seven chakras on the seven gates of Inanna’s journey, you get a framework for understanding change. It’s not about predicting the future. It’s about understanding the present.
The writer notes that shifting from Gemini into Cancer brings a reprieve from “incessant head trash.” Gemini is quick-witted and fast-talking. Cancer is heart-centered and nurturing. We’re moving from thinking to feeling.
This isn’t just for people in Florida. It’s for people in Delta, in Montrose, in our own backyards. The stars remain the same here as they are in Destin. The timing is the same. The energy is the same.
The question isn’t whether the planets control our lives. The question is whether we’re paying attention to the shift.
As the writer puts it, “Witnessing celestial events unfold in the sky, while noticing the changes on the land and feeling the corresponding energies shift internally, fascinates me to no end.”
That’s the human angle. It’s not about the cosmos. It’s about us. It’s about standing on the shore, watching the water, and realizing we’re part of the same system.
The article closes with a reference to Inanna rising out of the underworld. It’s a story of rebirth. Of reclaiming power. Of moving from the depths back to the surface.
It’s a good metaphor for a Monday. We start the week grounded, feeling the weight of the week ahead. But the sky is shifting. The energy is stirring.
We don’t need to predict the bad stuff. We just need to swim with it.





