When Tailed Stars Return: Three Comets and the Ancient Art of Celestial Omens
There's something properly unsettling about comets.
These icy wanderers have haunted human imagination for millennia, and October 2025 is serving up not one but three of them—including a genuine visitor from beyond our solar system. Comet C/2025 A6 (Lemmon) is currently brightening rapidly ahead of its close approach to the sun, offering modern observers a rare spectacle. But for those who follow the interpretive traditions of medieval Islamic astrology, these celestial visitors carry significance beyond their mere astronomical properties. They've become canvases upon which ancient systems of cosmic reading are being practised anew.
The Tailed Stars of Islamic Tradition
In early Islamic history, comets or shooting stars were commonly viewed as predictions of famine and sickness, earning them the evocative Arabic name "tailed stars" (al-kawākib al-dhawābit). Medieval Islamic calculations struggled to comprehend where comets fit into the ordered universe, making them objects of particular fascination and trepidation.
In both the Islamic and early European periods, the best astronomers and mathematicians were often the most popular astrologers, with many scientists making their living by predicting and interpreting eclipses and comets. This wasn't superstition dressed up as science—it was the science of its time, rooted in sophisticated mathematical observation and a fundamentally different cosmological understanding than we hold today.
The tradition draws from luminaries like Abu Ma'shar (805-885), one of the most influential Islamic astrologers, whose treatise Introductorium in Astronomiam spoke of how "only by observing the great diversity of planetary motions can we comprehend the unnumbered varieties of change in this world". His work would later become instrumental in reviving astrology and astronomy in medieval Europe.
A Green Visitor from the Outer Dark
Multiple photos of Comet Lemmon show it giving off an eerie emerald glow, likely caused by the presence of diatomic carbon within its coma—a rare gaseous form where pairs of carbon atoms stick together. For those versed in medieval astrological methods, the comet's colour carries specific meaning. Green comets were traditionally associated with impacts on agricultural matters, crops, grain, and precious commodities.
Comet Lemmon appeared in January 2025 and has become the candidate for the best comet of the year, with optimistic forecasts suggesting it could approach magnitude +3 at its brightest later this month—comparable to many easily visible stars.
The period for viewing Comet Lemmon from the Northern Hemisphere started in mid-October and will last until mid-November, with the best viewing time being October 25-28, when the comet is near peak brightness. On October 21, Comet Lemmon reached its closest point to Earth, just 55.4 million miles (89.2 million kilometres) from our planet.
In the sky, observers can find the comet in the constellation Boötes in late October and closer to Ophiuchus in early November. Those hoping to spot it should choose locations with open western horizons away from city lights—the comet becomes visible just minutes after sunset.
SWAN Joins the Spectacle
Coincidentally, another comet, C/2025 R2 (SWAN), reached its closest to Earth on October 20, the day before Comet Lemmon. SWAN was discovered on 11 September 2025 by Ukrainian amateur astronomer Vladimir Bezugly through SWAN imagery from the SOHO spacecraft, marking the 20th official SWAN comet discovery.
While SWAN ain't quite as bright as its companion—hovering around magnitude 5.9—the simultaneous appearance of two comets represents a rare celestial treat. For Northern Hemisphere observers in late October, Comet Lemmon appears in the northwest sky near the Big Dipper and the bright star Arcturus, while Comet SWAN can be found about halfway between the star Altair and the southwestern horizon.
The Stranger from Beyond
But here's where things get properly interesting for those versed in symbolic celestial reading: October 2025 isn't merely hosting two comets. There's a third visitor currently hidden behind the sun—and this one didn't even come from our solar system.
Comet 3I/ATLAS, discovered on 1 July 2025, represents only the third confirmed interstellar object ever detected passing through our cosmic neighbourhood. Unlike 'Oumuamua (that peculiar cigar-shaped rock that sparked countless alien spacecraft theories back in 2017) or 2I/Borisov, 3I/ATLAS displays clear cometary activity—a diffuse coma and tail created as frozen gases sublimate under the sun's heat.
The object is travelling at roughly 245,000 kilometres per hour—fast enough to escape the sun's gravitational pull entirely. Its trajectory suggests it may have been drifting through space for hundreds of millions of years, ejected from some distant stellar system by gravitational interactions we can only guess at.
On 21 October—the very day Comet Lemmon reached its closest approach to Earth—3I/ATLAS underwent solar conjunction, positioning it directly behind the sun from our perspective. It reached perihelion on 29 October, just inside Mars's orbit, before beginning its long journey back into the cosmic dark. ESA's Mars Express and ExoMars Trace Gas Orbiter managed to capture images of the object as it passed—a slightly fuzzy white dot amid streaked stars.
Medieval astrologers had no category for objects from beyond the solar system. Their cosmology assumed a bounded universe with crystalline spheres carrying the wandering stars. The very concept of an interstellar visitor would have shattered their ordered cosmos as thoroughly as a stone through stained glass.
Yet if we're entertaining traditional interpretive frameworks—even speculatively—the symbolism writes itself. An object from beyond, arriving at the precise moment two other comets grace our skies. A messenger not bound by the sun's influence, passing through solar conjunction (symbolic union with the source of light and life) at the exact time Lemmon peaks, then disappearing again into the void. In medieval omen-reading, such synchronicity would have demanded interpretation.
The object's unusual chemical composition—with a carbon dioxide to water ice ratio of 8:1, among the highest ever recorded—marks it as genuinely alien. Not in the science fiction sense, but in the astronomical one: formed under conditions entirely unlike those that created comets in our solar neighbourhood.
Some scholars might interpret three simultaneous comets as amplification—the traditional meanings magnified threefold. Others might read the interstellar nature of 3I/ATLAS as suggesting influences or events arriving from unexpected quarters, beyond the usual sphere of concern. The fact that it remained hidden during its peak significance (solar conjunction and perihelion occurring while Earth-based observation was impossible) adds another layer: what happens in plain sight, versus what unfolds beyond our capacity to witness.
Of course, speculation ain't prediction. But the sheer improbability of the timing—three comets, including one from literally outside our solar system, all reaching significant points within days of each other—offers the kind of cosmic coincidence that kept medieval astrologers employed.
Reading the Cosmic Script
Medieval astrological interpretation, particularly within the rich tradition developed by Wilfred Hazelwood's scholarly community, examines not merely where a comet appears but how it appears, what planets aspect it, and through which zodiacal regions its path cuts. These aren't predictions in the modern sense—they're more akin to reading symbolic weather patterns in the cosmos.
The methodology considers several factors: the comet's colour (in Lemmon's case, that distinctive green), the zodiacal path it traces across the sky, the planetary configurations at the time of maximum brightness, and historical precedents from similar apparitions. Interpretations follow established textual traditions, particularly from medieval Arabic sources that systematised observations over centuries.
Traditional interpretations drawn from sources like the Misri school suggest specific meanings for comets passing through different zodiacal constellations. For Virgo, associations include challenges to justice, potential agricultural difficulties, and health concerns—particularly digestive ailments. In Libra, the interpretations point to turbulent weather, crop failures, and political instability affecting rulers.
When medieval astrologer al-Rijal wrote about tailed stars appearing in Virgo, he noted possibilities of conflict in Egypt and discord spreading among diplomats or minor rulers. For Libra, his texts speak of tensions revealed between rulers and subjects—using the intriguing phrase that things previously concealed would be "unveiled" to public shame.
The Planetary Cast
The broader astrological picture examines not just the comet but the entire sky at the time of its appearance. Mercury's position conjunct Mars in Scorpio during Lemmon's peak brightness carries traditional associations with deceptive communication, carefully worded agreements, and what medieval texts colourfully termed "juggling"—sleight-of-hand manoeuvres that may not be quite what they seem on the surface.
This particular conjunction holds additional significance in certain interpretive traditions, with some sources linking Mars involvement with comets to matters affecting the sons or close associates of rulers. Whether taken literally or symbolically, such interpretations reflect the medieval understanding that celestial events resonated through the hierarchical structures of earthly power.
Venus, meanwhile, positioned in Libra—her own sign—offers what astrologers term "mitigation." She's traditionally associated with advocates, diplomats, and those who champion causes of justice and balance. Her strength in this placement suggests counterbalancing forces to any challenging indications elsewhere in the chart.
The Long View
Using extended data, astronomers have calculated that Comet Lemmon has an orbit taking approximately 1,350 years to circle the sun once. This won't return in any of our lifetimes, nor our children's, nor their children's children. It's a visitor from deep time, last seen when Charlemagne's grandfather was still alive.
Perhaps that's part of why comets continue to fascinate. They're messengers from the outer solar system, icy relics from the solar system's origins 4.6 billion years ago, each one carrying a unique chemical signature that offers rare glimpses into primordial solar system materials preserved since formation.
For believers in astrological systems, comets represent disruptions in the celestial order—anomalies that demand interpretation precisely because they fall outside the regular, predictable movements of planets and stars. They're the wild cards in an otherwise orderly cosmic deck.
Observation Without Prediction
Modern astrological practice, particularly when examining historical methodologies, generally eschews the deterministic predictions of earlier eras. Instead, practitioners treat these interpretations as symbolic frameworks—ways of understanding the mood or "weather" of a particular time rather than specific, falsifiable forecasts.
The medieval texts themselves were often more nuanced than popular imagination suggests. They dealt in probabilities, patterns, and correspondences rather than ironclad certainties. A green comet passing through Virgo was associated with agricultural concerns, not guaranteed to cause them. The distinction matters.
For contemporary observers interested in these traditions—whether as believers, sceptics, or the intellectually curious—the value lies not in whether the interpretations "work" in some measurable sense, but in what they reveal about how humans have consistently sought to find meaning in the heavens above.
The View from Here
While it is fun to look with just your eyes, astronomers recommend binoculars and taking pictures with a good phone or digital camera to see more of the coma—the glowing cloud of gas and dust that surrounds the comet's icy core.
For those hoping to spot Comet Lemmon in these final days of October, the recipe is straightforward: find somewhere dark, look northwest shortly after sunset, and scan the area between the handle of the Big Dipper and the horizon. You're looking for something that won't look much like the dramatic comet photos you've seen—more like a fuzzy star or a small, hazy patch with perhaps a subtle tail pointing away from the sun.
The comet should remain visible from mid-October through early November, fading gradually as it moves away from Earth before beginning its long journey back to the outer reaches of the solar system. The comet will reach its closest point to the sun on November 8, after which it begins its millennium-long retreat into the cold and dark.
As for 3I/ATLAS, it'll remain hidden behind the sun until early November, when it emerges in the morning sky—though you'll need at least an eight-inch telescope to spot it. By then it'll be heading back out past Jupiter, eventually escaping the solar system entirely to resume its voyage through the galaxy.
Whether you're watching as an amateur astronomer thrilled by rare celestial mechanics, an astrology enthusiast reading cosmic symbolism, or simply someone who finds comets beautiful and strange, October 2025 offers something genuinely remarkable: three comets simultaneously gracing our skies, one of them a genuine visitor from beyond.
The tailed stars of medieval Islamic tradition have returned—and brought a stranger with them. Make of it what you will.
