Lunar calendar · Scorpio · water
New Moon in Scorpio.
Next occurrence · 07:02 →
A new moon in Scorpio happens when the Sun and Moon meet in the sign of Scorpio, about once a year. The next one falls on November 9, 2026. Tradition reads it as a moment of sowing in the register of the sign: a seed buried in the deepest part of the garden, working in secret and transforming in silence.
What this lunation colors
You don’t sow in Scorpio the way you sow anywhere else. This November new moon sinks into fixed water, the sign of the eighth house: deep intimacy, shared resources, the crises that transform, everything that plays out beneath the surface of lives. A Scorpio seed isn’t planted in the loose soil of daily life: it’s buried in the compost, where finished things break down to feed what comes next. Concretely, it’s the intention of a shedding: stopping for good what harms you, opening a project of intimacy with someone, looking an old fear in the face, cleaning up a question of shared money, beginning a piece of deep work you keep putting off. The mood of the lunation is dense, magnetic, free of small talk: Scorpio prefers the true to the comfortable, and these few days make surface conversations strangely hard to sustain. Demetra George, who wrote at length about the dark phases of the Moon, sees in these buried moments not an absence but a gestation: what vanishes from the surface works harder below. That is exactly this new moon’s promise: you don’t need to see it grow for it to grow. Sow a single intention, but a true one, the kind you only admit to yourself. Fixed water will keep it warm all winter, and you’ll be surprised, come spring, by what survived: the essential, precisely.
A ritual to welcome it
Wait for night. Switch off whatever can be switched off and keep a single source of light. Write the intention you haven’t yet told anyone, the one that touches a real transformation, then fold the paper small, very small. You have two options, both Scorpionic: bury it in a pot of soil (the gestation), or burn it safely over a bowl (the offering). Choose by what your intention asks for: to grow in secret, or to consume a past. Finish with a glass of water drunk slowly in the dark, the way you’d seal a pact with yourself. Then don’t speak of it. The silence is part of the ritual.
Three questions for your journal
- What, in my life, is already dead but still standing, and what do I gain by keeping it up?
- What truth about myself do I know perfectly well and refuse to look at?
- If I let one old skin fall away this winter, which would it be?
More questions are waiting on the new moon writing page.
And the full moon in the same sign: full moon in Scorpio, or the whole full moon calendar.