Greatest eclipse is at February 17, 12:11 PM in your zone, with the Sun and Moon at 28°50′ Aquarius, near the North Node, 93 percent covered. Where it can be seen: antarctica; partial: southern Africa, southern South America, Indian Ocean.
The Moon is too far away to finish the job, and leaves a ring of fire in the sky.
In an annular solar eclipse the Moon passes directly across the Sun but is near the far point of her orbit, so she is not quite large enough to cover it. A bright ring, the annulus, is left around her dark disk. The day does not go dark, and the ring is never safe to look at without protection. Astrologers read the annular eclipse as a total eclipse with the center left open, a beginning that shows its shape but not yet its substance.
A ring of fire at the last breath of Aquarius—the Sun hollowed to a bright circle, the cool light shining through an opened center. Something folded in you is unfolding now; the wings are unsealing, wet and slow. There is no need to know yet what they are for. The first motion of a butterfly is not flight—it is the remembering that flight is what this body is for.
An eclipse at the North Node: the Dragon’s Head, the mouth that swallows the light to make room for something.
This eclipse falls near the North Node, at 28°50′ Aquarius, the degree whose image is a butterfly easing out of its chrysalis into open air. Astrologers read North Node eclipses as openings: what they bring is unfamiliar, sometimes unwanted, and pointed toward growth. The tradition treats the weeks after as a time when a door that was not there before is found to be standing open, and it does not promise that walking through will be comfortable.
28°50′ Aquarius, the twenty-ninth degree. A butterfly easing out of its chrysalis into open air.
Every eclipse has a family. Its elders came eighteen years before, a third of the world to the west.
Times are shown in your time zone (UTC).