Every June the full moon rises over fields and forests and the world collectively swoons over the “Strawberry Moon”, a name that dates back to Algonquin tribes, who marked the ripening of wild strawberries with this particular lunar cycle. Normally, this moon is simply another bright sphere in the night sky, but in June 2025, it’s not just sweet. It’s cosmically rare.
It’s participating in one of the Moon’s rarest and most dramatic acts: a Major Lunar Standstill. Yes, that’s a real astronomical thing and not just a yoga pose or a 70s rock band. So, what’s really going on in the sky this June and why is this Strawberry Moon more than just your average fruit-flavored lunar treat?
The last time it happened was back in 2006. Miss it in 2025, and your next chance won’t come around until 2043. So grab your camera, clear your schedule and maybe practice saying “wow” dramatically, because the Moon is about to put on a serious show.
First, let’s start with the basics. Every June we get a “Strawberry Moon”, named not for its color, but for its timing, when wild strawberries ripen. But in 2025, this full Moon is also aligned with a cosmic event that’s about as rare as a unicorn moonwalking across the sky: a Major Lunar Standstill.
So what exactly is a Major Lunar Standstill? Let’s get a bit nerdy. The Moon’s orbit is tilted by about 5.1 degrees compared to Earth’s orbit around the Sun. That tilt, plus Earth’s own 23.5 degree lean, means the Moon doesn’t rise and set in the exact same spot every day. Over time, its path across the sky wobbles like a slowly tipping spinning top. From this you get a lunar drift that makes the Moon’s position in the sky vary across the month and year. Sometimes it rises farther north, sometimes farther south. Sometimes it takes a high arc across the sky and sometimes it drags its heels just above the horizon, like a teenager being asked to mow the lawn.
Now here’s where it gets interesting: over an 18.6-year cycle, the extremes of the Moon’s rising and setting points shift back and forth. The biggest swing, the major lunar standstill, is when the Moon reaches its furthest north and south positions on the horizon. In practical terms, it rises and sets in the most extreme parts of the sky and in June 2025, it will be at its lowest point in that cycle when the full moon rises.
When the Moon sits low on the horizon, our brains play a neat little trick called the Moon Illusion. Compared to objects like trees, houses or mountains on the horizon, the Moon appears enormous. It’s not actually bigger, just optically pumped up.
Combine that with the Strawberry Moon’s already gorgeous golden glow as it rises in June twilight and you’ve got yourself a celestial spectacle worth cancelling your Netflix night over.
And the next one? You’ll be older. Possibly wiser. This kind of extreme Moon won’t come back until 2043. By then, who knows where you’ll be? Maybe retired. Maybe with grandkids. Maybe living on the Moon (okay, maybe not). But one thing’s for sure: you won’t get another chance like this for almost two decades.
So this June, as the Moon rises low and large, take a moment to just stare. Share it with a friend. Snap a picture. Say something poetic. Or just whisper, “Good heavens, that’s a big Moon.”
Because it really, truly will be.
So, on June 10th (or whenever it’s peaking in your local time zone), find a spot with an unobstructed view of the horizon. Pack a picnic and prepare to witness a truly exceptional Strawberry Moon, a rare celestial ballet that’s putting on its lowest, largest performance in nearly twenty years. Don’t miss the Moon’s big “limbo” moment!
The Ballad of the Strawberry Moon
Oh, rise up slow, sweet lunar tune,
You berry-blushed and bashful Moon,
A low-hung lamp on twilight’s thread,
With cheeks of pink and dreams of red.
You skim the hills with glowing grace,
A ribbon tied ‘round evening’s face.
The fireflies hum, the crickets swoon,
It’s story time beneath the Moon.
No strawberry fields up in the sky,
Yet there you hang, so round and shy.
The farmers smile, the berries bloom,
For June has brought the Strawberry Moon.
The owls all hoot, the coyotes croon,
To welcome back their crescent boon.
But oh! this year, you’re extra sly,
You barely even scrape the sky!
A lunar standstill, so they say,
You crouch and creep and flirt with hay.
And through this rare, celestial tune,
You wink at Earth, a flirty Moon.
No spaceship ride, no high balloon,
Could bring us closer than this June.
So grab a quilt, go sit out soon,
And raise a toast to the Strawberry Moon.
