Mid-Summer on the Ancient Land

It’s late summer in Australia.

The ground is warm underfoot. The days are still long, though you can feel the edge of the season beginning to soften. There is heat in the soil, light in the evenings, and the sense that this fullness won’t last forever,  and that’s okay.

This time of year doesn’t need explaining.

It’s about being here while it’s here.

Late Summer and Harvest

In older Celtic seasonal language, this part of the year was known as Lammas, also called Lughnasadh, with Lammas coming from Loaf Mass, and Lughnasadh named for the god Lugh, associated with skill, craft, and the fruits of human effort. It marked the first harvest, when the earliest grain was cut and baked into bread.

Lammas wasn’t about abundance without effort. It was about recognising that something had been tended, grown, and gathered through time and labour. The grain carried the memory of sun, rain, patience, and work.

In this sense, Lammas was practical before it was spiritual.

It acknowledged what was sustaining the community right now, not promises of more to come, just what had already arrived.

In the Southern Hemisphere, this idea fits naturally into late summer.

Food on the table. Warmth in the body. Love, effort, and time that have come back to you in some form.

This is harvest.

Lammas and Lughnasadh — A Shared Turning Point

It’s worth noting that Lammas and Lughnasadh are often spoken about together, but they are historically separate.

Lughnasadh comes from older Celtic traditions and marked the first harvest, celebrating the deity Lugh games, feasts and fire, tied to land, labour, and community gathering. Lammas developed later in Anglo-Saxon England, rooted in the baking and blessing of bread made from the first grain cut.

What they share is not a ritual or a deity, but timing and meaning, a recognition that something has ripened, that effort has paid off, and that survival depends on what has been gathered. Over time, these traditions overlapped, and their names became linked.

Seen plainly, both point to the same moment in the year: the shift from growth to gathering, gratitude and abundance from the first harvest.

The Full Moon in Early February

The Full Moon in Leo on 2 February 2026 arrives during the heart of late summer, when everything already feels full.

A full moon has always marked a point of illumination, what has been growing reaches its peak, and what is present becomes easier to see. In Leo, that light falls on warmth, generosity, and the natural confidence that comes from being expressed rather than hidden.

This is a good moment to give thanks for what is already abundant. To share food, company, and time. To let yourself enjoy what has been built without needing to justify it.

Like the season itself, this moon doesn’t demand change or effort. It offers light, warmth, and asks you to feel a moment of thanks for what is already here and what you can move forward with as the season changes.

Looking Forward to Autumn

Even as we enjoy the last warmth of summer, there is a quiet pull toward the coming season. The days will shorten, the air will carry a crispness, and the land will shift into richer, deeper colours.

Autumn brings its own beauty: leaves turning gold and red, softer sunlight, and a sense of calm and slowing. In the Southern Hemisphere, this season also brings Mabon, the Autumn Equinox, a moment to acknowledge balance and the fruits of the year’s efforts. Later, Samhain in May marks the turning toward winter, a time of reflection, rest, and honoring what has passed.

Anticipating these changes allows us to welcome them fully when they arrive, carrying the warmth and abundance of summer with us into the cooler months ahead.

Gratitude Without Performance

Gratitude at this time of year is plain and physical.

Bare feet on warm earth.

Cold water on a hot day.

Shared meals. Open windows. Long evenings.

A quiet thank you for the light, the heat, and the life that summer has carried.

No rituals. No affirmations.

Just thanks.

As Summer Begins to Ease

Even while the days are still hot, the body starts to slow.

Late summer is when you naturally begin to:

use what you already have

finish things rather than start new ones

take care instead of pushing forward

Not preparing out of a rush or a push,  just making space for the cooler months that will come in their own time.

A Simple Ending

Stand barefoot on the earth while it’s still warm.

Let the sun sit on your skin.

Give thanks for the warmth, the love, and the light that summer has provided.

That’s enough.

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By The Crescent Moon 🌙