March Equinox 2023

The old iris bulbs near the back door sprouted late last month but have not grown beyond a few inches tall. They await the March equinox, when it will be more safe to extend upwards. Within a few weeks, the dogwood bushes will bud with their pinkish-white blossoms. Soon the elm trees will litter the yard with thousands of tiny brown husks. Not long afterwards, the neighbor’s silver maple will drop helicopter seeds onto the street and my front yard. This happens every year like clockwork.

There is a celestial harmony during the two equinoxes. The ancient peoples used to enjoy ceremonies commemorating the transitions from one season to the next. The equinoxes mark the rough equality of night and day. The March equinox in the Northern Hemisphere brings the spring thaws which means muddy boots and allergy symptoms. For the most part, people seem to be in happier moods, too.

“Oh, what a catastrophe for man when he cut himself off from the rhythm of the year, from his unison with the Sun and the Earth. Oh, what a catastrophe, what a maiming of love when it was a personal, merely personal feeling, taken away from the rising and the setting of the Sun, and cut off from the magic connection of the solstice and the equinox!”–D. H. Lawrence

Spring also means the onslaught of severe thunderstorms, destructive winds, and tornadoes. I used to enjoy the excitement of stormy weather, but the thrill is no longer there. I just want the happy parts of spring because I’m less flexible and move more slowly as I age.

It won’t be much longer until the lawnmower comes out of hibernation. Cutting the grass is a chore I don’t mind unless the air is hot and humid. At the end of a spring day, I smell of dirt and grass clippings. There’s something satisfying about tidying up the yard. I always hope it will remain nice looking; but storms often spoil that satisfaction after a day or two.

Meanwhile, today marks the March equinox. I hope that the season will be auspicious for everyone.

Ciao

The Blue Jay of Happiness quotes 20th century French surrealist author and poet, Louis Aragon. “And there are loners in rural communities who, at the equinox, are said to don new garments and stroll down to the cities, where great beasts await them, fat and docile.”