A violent storm breaks over a canyon lined with expensive houses, weather that does not distinguish between the humble and the wealthy, arriving over a neighborhood built, in some of these canyons literally, on unstable ground. Saturn now takes the term, the sign's last stretch of degrees, twenty-seven through thirty, while the Moon continues to rule the decan, a combination pairing the sign's own planet with astrology's classic bringer of hard necessity.
Wheeler's image came out of the 1925 Balboa Park session; the reading attached here is Rudhyar's 1973 language, and it reads the storm allegorically, expensive homes standing in for a settled, comfortable order about to be tested by something it cannot simply purchase its way around. The shadow is close to the image's surface: houses built for beauty and prestige in places exposed to real natural risk, comfort that has not reckoned with the ground it stands on. Cancer prizes shelter above almost everything else the sign values, which makes a storm specifically targeting expensive, presumably well-built shelter a pointed test of the sign's own central promise. For a placement here the degree tends to mark the audit a crisis performs, and its counsel is Cancer's own: build shelter for the ground actually under it, not for the view.