In a world where institutions, such as newspapers and media outlets, are handing over so many tasks to AI (Artificial Intelligence), the importance and value of human interpretation can easily get lost and devalued, along with the connection that we have to the world around us. In my role as a cosmologist, it is important that I stay attuned to the movement of the stars and planets and how this is reflected in nature and affects me personally. This is one of the reasons why it has become so important to me to continuing provide a free service of daily horoscopes to the people of Boston, Massachusetts (a city within which I reside).
This website also contains useful information concerning Tarot Card readings and how these can be performed personally, without the need for a reader. It also contains information on the use and history of the Kabbalah, and how it is connected to the Zodiac.
Go To Today's Horoscope
Boston and spring have always had a complicated relationship, the city sits at latitude 42 degrees north, which means winter holds on with a particular stubbornness, and the transition from grey cold to genuine warmth is never linear. But from an astrological perspective, spring in Boston is one of the most cosmically significant seasonal events in the northern hemisphere, because it begins not with a date on a calendar but with a precise astronomical moment: the vernal equinox, when the Sun crosses into Aries and the astrological new year begins. In 2026, that crossing occurs on March 20th, and from that moment forward the city is operating under what astrologers have always considered the most initiatory, energetically charged season of the year.
The Sun's ingress into Aries is the astrological signature of spring, and it carries the full symbolic weight of the sign: courage, initiative, the raw desire to begin, the refusal to let caution delay what instinct says is ready. For Boston, a city whose character is shaped by its intellectual daring, its revolutionary history, and its fierce local pride, Aries season is almost comically well-suited. The city wakes up in Aries. It throws off its winter composure and becomes, briefly and magnificently, the most alive version of itself. The Red Sox return to Fenway Park. Students flood the streets of Cambridge and Allston. The Public Garden's famous Swan Boats begin their season. None of these are astrology, of course, but they are all expressions of the same seasonal archetype that astrology has named and mapped for thousands of years: the instinct to emerge, to move, to assert the self into the renewing world.
The weeks that follow the equinox trace the zodiacal progression of spring in a language that is remarkably consistent with the lived experience of the season. As the Sun moves through Aries in late March and early April, the energy is bold and somewhat impatient, Boston's spring is famously unpredictable, swinging between snowfall and genuine warmth, and Aries energy is precisely this: the spark that precedes the sustained flame, the first shoots that are reckless enough to emerge before the frost is reliably finished. The Sun's move into Taurus in mid-to-late April corresponds to the settling of the season into something more genuinely reliable, the cherry blossoms come to the Esplanade, the outdoor cafés open with something approaching confidence, and the city's appetite for sensory pleasure, for food and warmth and unhurried evenings, comes fully alive in the Taurean register.
Gemini season, arriving in late May, brings the social, intellectual, and communicative peak of the Boston spring, and for a city that is essentially a thinking organism, a vast network of universities, hospitals, technology companies, and cultural institutions in perpetual dialogue with one another, Gemini is the astrological sign that fits most naturally. Commencement season falls precisely here: the great annual culmination of the academic year, when tens of thousands of students complete one chapter and begin the next, exactly as the Sun reaches the sign of the twins and the days reach their longest, most light-filled expression.
What makes spring in Boston so resonant from an astrological perspective is that the city does not merely experience the season, it embodies it. The Aries impulse to begin, the Taurus impulse to savour, the Gemini impulse to connect and communicate: these are not abstract qualities but the very textures of Boston's spring as it is lived in the streets and parks and classrooms and harbourside paths of one of the world's great city-signs. The Moon, cycling through all twelve signs approximately every 29 days, adds its own monthly rhythm to the seasonal arc, the Full Moons of spring carry particular names in the indigenous North American tradition that sits at the root of Boston's land: the Worm Moon of March, the Pink Moon of April, the Flower Moon of May. Each is a marker in the great seasonal narrative that astrology and the living world share, the story of light returning, life reasserting, and a city that has endured the long cold finally, joyfully, refusing to hold still any longer.