Helios and Heliotrope: Connecting Myth and Nature
As Helios—the Greek sun god—showers (pelts?) us with his radiant energy, the fiery element to Leo Season (July 22-August 21) is unmistakable. And it's because this is the time of year when the sun and the lion beckon us to tap into our Herculean power.
Why Herculean Power?
In mythology, Leo's constellation (the lion) is famously linked to the tale of Hercules and the Nemean Lion—a beast so fierce that its skin was impervious to human weapons. This was the first of his twelve labors, and after failing to kill the lion with weapons, he used his bare hands to strangle him. It was through his own power he was able to succeed.
Hercules’ victory over the lion is a powerful allegory of conquering fears and harnessing inner strength—mirroring the journey of personal empowerment encouraged during Leo season. While Zeus placed the lion in the stars to honor him for his sheer strength, the image of Hercules donning the lion's hide as a cape after his triumph is also emblematic of this energy. For Hercules, it was defeating the first of his twelve labors that provided him with a sustaining confidence boost for the challenges that lay ahead.
By Pompilos, Helios's cup with Heracles in it, Rome, Museo Gregoriano Etrusco via Wikimedia Commons
Seasonally speaking, with the first harvest of the year landing on or around August 1—under Leo's reign—this too would've been a time when people were feeling invigorated. It would've been the boost they needed after all the months of seeding and sowing, tilling and tending to their crops. A good first harvest was likely to propel them into fall and then winter feeling well about their abundance and likelihood of surviving the winter.
Leo is the Sun's Domicile
Leo season's connection to the sun also evokes myths of celestial siblings, Helios and Selene, and their counterparts, Apollo and Artemis. While Helios and Apollo both shine with solar energy, their stories offer different dimensions to our understanding of light and its divine implications. Unlike Apollo, who is a solar god, Helios is the personification of the sun. It is he who drives his chariot across the sky, commanding day and providing life-giving warmth.
Illustration from "Poeticon Astronomicon" by Gaius Julius Hyginus, first printed by Erhard Ratdolt, Venice, 1482
The influence of and reverence for the sun extends into the natural world in fascinating ways. Consider sunflowers, who turn their blooms to face the sun, and reflect in their radiating golden petals the rays of the sun. Likewise, the Amblyrhynchus cristatus—the only marine iguanas in the world found only in the Galápagos—spend their days en masse basking on volcanic rocks to absorb heat from the sun. It is essential for them and the only means they have of raising their body temperature after swimming in the cold Pacific waters.
I am captivated by sunflowers, and those reptilian sun bathers became a running joke with me that I might be part marine iguana—because up until hormonal changes that come with age and motherhood, I too was often found soaking in some sun just to warm myself up. Perhaps it's my Leo rising that makes me a human sun worshipper. Or it may be the Gemini sun that draws me to both solar and lunar traits.
Regardless the reason, I'm drawn to solar plants and find myself envious of my possibly-reptilian ancestors. It's not uncommon for me to step outside an air-conditioned space, pausing to raise my face to Helios, and bask in his warmth for a moment. Often, I don't realize I was feeling off until the sun's rays have me feeling right again.
Heliotrope, Bloodstone, and Cosmic Connections
Recently, I was introduced to a plant symbolic of this same sun-worship— the heliotrope. Like the sunflower, the heliotrope is named for its sun-following behavior.
Nature, to me, is a profound medium for receiving messages, even though my thumb isn't particularly green. The plant and animal kingdom often communicate with me through serendipitous encounters rather than through manmade media. But, as I tell many of my tarot clients, these symbols pervade nature and also leap out unexpectedly from books, movies, or conversations.
While my experiences usually occur in nature, recently heliotrope reached out in other means. Unfamiliar with this plant, I first encountered its symbolic meaning in an audiobook just as I was drifting into sleep:
"A heliotrope was a plant that blossomed with fragrant purple and blue flowers and was known for turning its petals toward the sun. It seemed to Ballard like a fitting metaphor for hope and seeking light in darkness." —The Late Show by Michael Connelly.
Photo by Sandra Grünewald on Unsplash
How wonderful, I thought, for an author to recognize symbolic metaphors in the world around them. The quote references a crime victim residing on Heliotrope Drive in Los Angeles—detective Ballard concludes that the street name was likely chosen by the victim for its metaphoric significance.
Though determined to learn more about this sun-worshipping plant in the morning, I fell asleep and forgot. Remarkably, the same plant was mentioned in a TV show I watched the next day, referring to the purple dye historically made from heliotrope blooms. It was clear the universe wanted to draw my attention to this beautiful purple shrub.
Upon researching, I discovered that heliotrope is also a name for bloodstone, a polycrystalline aggregate—meaning it consists of many tiny crystals packed together—in the quartz family. What's crazy about my bloodstone specimen was how I came to acquire it.
Long story short...saw it while a vendor friend was setting up at Spirit Fest, went home and was told in a dream I needed it, and I went back and bought it. What makes it crazy is it wasn't a stone I was familiar with at the time, I wasn't in the market for any more crystals (the stars know I have more than I need), and yet it was one of those moments when I knew in my bones it was meant for me.
My super awesome bloodstone specimen 🥰 purchased from Intuitive Wisdom Tarot and More at Orlando 2025 Spirit Fest
And I could go on. Because there have been several other cosmic connections between bloodstone and heliotrope for me. But I won't because if you've read down this far already, you're a champ and I know you're thinking "dang, this girl is wordy."
Instead, I will end this here. Until next time…