As darkness slightly – but not quite noticeably – outweighs light in our days now, I’m still feeling a little stuck in that little rut that a balance point can bring (see autumn equinox: stillness or waning half moon: spinning wheels). One of nature’s messages at this time of year is that of release: leaves, seeds and the last of the fruits are all being let go. I’m still working out what I need to release right now; my recent stress levels are doing the job of a whirling, flashing, bleeping siren warning me that some thing(s) have to go. Besides, with every year we grow and change and so must cast aside our outgrown, too-worn things to make way for what we need now. Just as I do with my little boy’s clothes.
I may have mentioned before a little trait of mine that my husband and many others just can’t understand: I actually prefer the late autumn, the winter and the spring to the warmer months. As well as not being a particularly hot weather person, (as I truly realised when travelling in south-east Asia), I can just find that summer can be a bit of an anti-climax, especially here in the UK. We anticipate warm, sunny long days, have high expectations of all we want to do – and some years (like this one) these hopes and fantasies are to some extent realised. But so often they are not. With the other seasons, I feel that we know what we are getting and that the surprise weather is often pleasant.
My preference is also perhaps due to what, historically, my hobbies and talents have been. I was quite an indoor child (quite possibly due to my brother and his friends having claimed the garden as their football pitch), doing wintery things like baking, reading and crafting. So I loved the darker months, when it seemed right to be inside doing such things. Yet now, as Rob and I fumble our way along the path of growing and foraging for some of our own food and medicines, dreaming of one day keeping bees, some animals and having a coppice too, I am drawn so much to the outdoors as well. Now with a football-less garden, I can even be found knitting out there! (although who knows what will happen if/when Dylan wants his own pitch…) Yet still I love the cosyness of (knitted) jumpers, blankets and hot chocolate (because, yeah right, like I never drink hot chocolate in summer!), love the mystery of the long nights ruled by the wise goddess in her dark cloak, love the heightened sense of intuition I feel and the closer connection to other worlds and spirits in the paler, more translucent light. I love seeing the trees’ shapes more clearly without the beautiful distraction of their leaves. I love, truly love, these coming months. ♥