Greatest eclipse is at July 18, 4:02 PM in your zone, with the Moon at 25°57′ Capricorn, near the North Node. It is visible from Penumbral, extremely faint (essentially invisible to the naked eye). Visible from Asia, Australia, Pacific.
A shadow so faint the Moon only seems tired, and only to those who know her face well enough to notice.
In a penumbral lunar eclipse the Moon passes through the Earth’s outer shadow and never touches the umbra. She dims a little, sometimes with a soft shading along one edge, and most people looking up would not know anything was happening. Astrologers count it as an eclipse because it falls at a node and belongs to a season, but they read it as the lightest of all, a Full Moon with a whisper of emphasis.
A penumbral lunar in late Capricorn—so faint the sky gives no visible sign. In the mist at the edge of the long climb, a small iridescent thing is dancing. Some eclipses are events you watch; others are weather you only feel. What is being asked of you now is a private matter—a question the climb has been avoiding by taking itself too seriously. The sprite is already there. You have only to notice.
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 25°57′ Capricorn, the degree whose image is a nature spirit dancing in the iridescent mist of a waterfall. 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.
25°57′ Capricorn, the twenty-sixth degree. A nature spirit dancing in the iridescent mist of a waterfall.
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).