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Moon water has a long life in old traditions, in folk practice and in modern ritual. These are the things people reach for it for, with the reasoning behind each. We share them as tradition, not as claims — the paragraph after them says what we will and won’t stand behind.
In many traditions the moon is the cool, soothing counterpart to the sun. Water that has sat under it is taken to settle heat and irritability, and to quiet the mind before sleep.
The full moon has long marked the point of release in the cycle. People drink or wash with moon water to close a month: to put down what they have been carrying and start the next cycle lighter.
Most traditions have you name an intention while the water charges. Whatever the moon does, the act of stopping, naming what you want and drinking to it the next morning is a small, real ritual — and rituals measurably change how people feel.
The body is mostly water, and the moon pulls the tides; the folk logic follows from there. We would say it more plainly: drinking on the lunar calendar ties an ordinary daily habit to something larger and slower than the week.
Moon water is used as a face mist, a toner, and poured into baths. It is, at minimum, very clean cold spring water on your skin — and the ritual of it is the point.
People mist rooms with it, water plants with it, and rinse the objects they care about. It is the same water; what changes is the attention you pay to the thing you use it on.
There is no evidence that moonlight changes the chemistry of water, and we won’t tell you it does. What we can show you is the water — a single spring, tested, nothing added — and the night: measured, logged, and printed on the bottle. What the ritual does for you is real, and it’s yours. We just make sure the night part is true.
Honestly: we don’t claim a measurable change in the water’s chemistry, and we won’t. What we can promise is the night itself — the water is drawn the same day, runs over the weir under the sky through the entire night of the moon you see on the bottle, and is sealed before sunrise. Some people buy it for the ritual, some for the story, some because it’s very good spring water in a beautiful bottle. All three are fine reasons.
Yes. It is spring water from a single tested source, and it is tested again after bottling. It is filtered to 0.2 microns before the charge, the weir is a closed loop under a glass roof so the water never meets the open air, and it passes a final filter and a UV lamp on the way into the bottle. None of that changes what the water is — filters only remove — but it is what makes it legal to sell, and it is what we would want done to anything we drink. The full lab results for every batch are linked from the batch’s sky report.
If the sky is more than lightly clouded for more than a set number of hours, the batch doesn’t count. The water is poured back and we try again on the next clear night. That night’s bottles are stamped with the night they actually saw, not the one on the calendar.
Two reasons. Frosted glass blocks light after the charge, so what happened that night is the only light the water is exposed to before you open it. And we wanted the bottle to look like what it is — a small moon on your table. If seeing the water matters to you, hold it up to a window: the frost is translucent, not opaque.
It’s the phase of the moon the water was charged under. The dark part is the unlit side, the light part is what was shining on the water. Full Moon carries a full disc; Waxing Sparkling a gibbous; First Quarter a half; Waxing Crescent a sliver; and New Moon a dark disc, because it was charged on the one night the moon isn’t there at all.
The date, the phase, the illumination, the sky conditions and the batch number. Scan it and you get the whole night: hour-by-hour altitude, cloud cover and temperature, plus the log from the person who sat with the water.
No. No minerals, no flavour, no electrolytes, no ozone. It is filtered and passed under UV light, which take things out and put nothing in, so the water reaches you with the same composition it had at the spring — which is also what the rules for the words “spring water” require.
A case of twelve arrives the morning after every full moon, about every 29½ days. You can pause, skip or cancel from your account any time before the charge night, and there are no fees for any of it.
Every batch page keeps a record of the night the water was out — the keeper’s log from the weir, what the wider world was doing that day, and notes from the people who drink it. If you hold a bottle, you can add where you were that night; the bottle number on the stamp is your key. It’s our way of making a bottle a small time capsule, not just a drink.
We record it; we don’t preach it. Every sky report shows the zodiac sign the moon was in when it was full — that part is geometry, the moon’s position on the ecliptic, and it is exactly as true as the date. Under it we print one line on what astrologers traditionally read that sign’s full moon as. Use it if it speaks to you. If it doesn’t, the water is the same water.
In [REGION]. We show the spot on a map on the About page but we don’t publish the exact location — it’s on private land and we’d like to keep it quiet.
A note the evening before each charge, and first access to limited phases.