Sirius & Lions Gate: An Ancient Herald of Renewal

One of the things I love most about our home on Kombumerri country is its aspect. It was designed with the path of the sun in mind. In winter, the sunlight reaches deep into the house, bringing warmth into the living spaces. In summer, when the sun rides much higher, the eaves keep that same light outside. It’s a simple design, yet living with it has made me far more aware of the rhythms of the sky.

The large windows also give me a front-row seat to the changing heavens. I can watch where the sun rises through the year, follow the wandering paths of the planets, and become familiar with the returning constellations.

Most mornings I wake well before sunrise. There is something about that hour that feels quite mystical. The world is quiet. The darkness promises new possibilities, and the stillness has a way of drawing my attention to things I would otherwise miss.

Over the past few weeks I’ve noticed Sirius appearing just above the eastern horizon shortly before dawn. Today it’s widely associated with what many call the Lion’s Gate, but long before that it served as one of humanity’s great seasonal markers. In ancient Egypt, the return of Sirius before dawn announced the coming inundation of the Nile, the promise of prosperity and the beginning of a new cycle of life. Apparently it also signalled the start of a new year in the ancient Egyptian calendar.

Here in Currumbin Valley, I’ve noticed it heralds something similar, yet different.

Around the same time Sirius returns to the morning sky, our pink jasmine begins to flower. The vines start transforming into cascading fountains of delicate, star-shaped blossoms, spilling over branches in waves of soft pink and white. Their perfume drifts effortlessly through the cool morning air—sweet, fresh and uplifting, dissolving the gloom of winter and hinting at brighter days.

As the days stretch a little longer, I can sense something within the land slowly begin to stir and awaken. If I look closely, I can see new growth forming on trees & plants around me. An excitement and anticipation wells inside of me. Soon I’ll hear the hum of bees foraging amongst the new flowers. I’ll see new fruit beginning to form on our trees and feel the warmth of the spring sun against my skin.

With this bubbling up of energy and blossoming of new life, I often experience a renewal within myself too. I feel lighter than I did throughout the darker winter months and have a sense of excitement about what is to come. I can see fresh possibilities and sense the creative potential in the air.

Although the Egyptians are in a different season and a different part of the world, perhaps the sense of renewal I’m feeling is similar to what they would have experienced when they saw Sirius rising in the eastern sky before dawn. I’m curious, however, about what else Sirius may be signalling for me in this part of the world.

Over the years I’ve noticed that this is definitely a drier time of the year here. The soft, moist green of winter gradually gives way to drying grasses and crackling leaves. It’s a gentle reminder that the risk of fire is increasing. In fact, this time of year is often referred to as the fire season around here. And with fire season comes the responsibility of caring for the land, which often involves thinning out the undergrowth around trees and reducing the fuel load before the heat arrives.

I found it interesting to read that the ancient Greeks blamed Sirius in part for the intensity of their August summer heat because they believed its fiery, scorching nature added to that of the Sun. Perhaps, the fiery nature of Sirius is also behind our fire season here in South-East Queensland?

Fire, however, isn’t simply a force of destruction. I’ve learned that many Australian native plants have evolved with it. Some even depend on it. The Grass Tree, for example, often responds to fire by sending up a spectacular flowering spike, as though the flames themselves have awakened something that had been waiting beneath the surface.

Maybe, here on Kombumerri country, Sirius is not only a herald of renewal and warmer days, but also a reminder that renewal often asks something of us. Before the mythical phoenix can rise, it must first pass through the fire. Perhaps there are seasons in our own lives that feel much the same—not sent to destroy us, but to burn away what no longer serves us, revealing what has been waiting to emerge all along.

King, B. 2016 “A Real Scorcher! — Sirius At Heliacal Rising” Sky & Telescope, viewed on August 2nd <https://skyandtelescope.org/stargazing-and-observing/a-real-scorcher-sirius-at-heliacal-rising/#google_vignette>

If you like this reflection and would like to follow my deep dive into nature, please subscribe to my newsletter on the bottom of my home page.