Nocturne

Fall Equinox                                                                   New (Falling Leaves) Moon

For those of us who love the night, this is a fulcrum holiday. We enter the long period that starts with the final harvests and does not end completely until the vernal equinox. From today, till then, the night will gain dominance, peaking at the winter solstice, but not relinquishing its grip until the sun hits 0 declination in the east next March.

It’s not that I do not love the light, I do. It is rather that I prefer the dark, the quiet, the solitary. I’m also entranced, quite literally, by what I call Holiseason, that period beginning at Samhain and running through Epiphany. As we move into the dark, we also move into our fears, our paleolithic uneasiness with the reliability of the heavens.

These fears have driven humanity across time and across the globe to create brave holidays that feature the light. Yes, you could say that the emphasis on them really underscores our fears, rather than challenges them, but I choose to go with the perspective that they hit the fear directly. No, night, you cannot have us, not for all the day, never, and surely not for all the year. In the words of Battlestar Galatica, so say we all.

From late October to early January a parade of festivals bring us lights and gifts and warmth and family celebrations. What a delight. Good music, too. And theater.

It all starts tonight.

Mabon 2014 and the Springtime of the Soul

Fall Equinox                                                                      Leaf Change Moon

Today the earth’s celestial equator (the earth’s equator projected into space) passes through the sun’s ecliptic (the sun’s apparent path throughout the year, actually caused by earth’s orbit.) You usually hear this put the other way around; that is, as the sun passing through the earth’s celestial equator, but that represents the stuckness of paleolithic astronomy that assumed the earth was the center of the solar system. From the diagram above you can see the sun’s declination (degree above or below the celestial equator) is 0 on the vernal and autumnal equinoxes.

This same diagram is very clear about the solstices, too. You can see that when the earth’s orbit tilts the northern latitudes toward the sun, the sun is highest in the sky-the summer solstice.  When the sun is lowest in the northern sky-the earth tilts away from the sun and gives us the winter solstice.

Since the summer solstice day time has exceeded night time. In theory the autumnal equinox is the point of equilibrium between light and dark, but at our latitude that day actually occurs on September 25th this year. This is, however, the day the Great Wheel celebrates and it does so because of the sun’s zero declination at earth’s celestial equator.

This week then the victory of the sun, made complete on the summer solstice, begins to wane. The dark god of deep winter gains greater and greater authority as the sun’s rays spread out over a larger area of earth, thus weakening them, and the number of hours that the sun is in our sky, even in its weakened condition relative to the soil, decrease steadily until the night of the winter solstice. Thus comes the fallow, cold time.

It is no accident that the harvest season is now. Over the 475 million years (give or take a hundred million) since plants made it out of the oceans and onto land, plants have adapted themselves to the conditions that work with their particular genetics. Key aspects of a plant’s life include carbon dioxide, soil nutrients, available fresh water, adequate sunlight and temperatures adequate for all these to work with the plant’s life cycle.

Thus, as the earth’s orbit carries it to different relationships with solar strength, temperatures change along with it.  At its maximum when the earth tilts toward the sun and the sun is highest in the sky, the sun’s rays fall on a smaller area of land. Here’s an excellent simulation. University of Nebraska-Lincoln.

Plants have had the past 475 million years to refine their growing season so that it takes maximum benefit of the sun’s strength. In a very real sense the growing season is a clock, or an astronomical observatory directly correlated to the earth’s orbit around the sun–The Great Wheel.

On a spiritual level, if we follow the ancient calendar of the plants, the season of external growth, flowering and seed making, is waning now. Just as the plant either dies out and anticipates its rejuvenation from scattered seed or goes dormant and waits with stored energy below ground in roots or corms or bulbs, so we might consider this season as the one where we shift inward, away from the external demands upon us and the expectations put on us there.

Now we shift toward the interior life, the Self becomes more of a focus, our spiritual life can deepen. We can see this shift in the human life cycle if we compare the second phase of life with its emphasis on family creation and nurture and career, to the third, with its pulling back from those external expectations. The third phase is a post growing season time of life, not in the sense that growth ends, but that its focus is more down and in rather than up and out. The third phase is the fallow time.  Michaelmas on the 29th of this month is known by followers of Rudolf Steiner as the springtime of the soul.

The third phase marks the beginning of the springtime of the soul for the individual.

Love it or leave it

Lughnasa                                                                          College Moon

Cool nights. I’m enjoying these. A great advantage of mountain living is that most nights are cool nights. Looking forward to that. Also, realized that after we move Coming Down the Mountain will take on a new meaning in our life.

The push this week is getting things ready to make efficient use of the SortTossPack folks. A major emphasis will be sorting art, objet d’arts, souvenirs, all that stuff that hangs around because it got set down long ago and never moved. This is the love it or leave it sort.

Which reminds me of a conversation with Tom Crane at the War Memorial during the Woolly Meeting last week.  Pondering the weirdness around patriotism, the notion that the only patriots were veterans and flag wavers. I said, yes, and recalled the 60’s when the love it or leave it bumper stickers pretended to sort out the patriotic, worthy of citizenship folks from those of us with long hair and in opposition to the Vietnam War.

Love of country does not equate to love of government and pride in all its decisions. Nor does it equate to love of the economic system that sorts folks into the 1% and the 99%. Love of country has many roots and more than one flower.

With a son in the military I appreciate the dedication and sacrifice those who serve in the armed forces make, even in peace time. That some in the country want to remember and honor those who serve seems like a natural impulse to me. Most nations have needed warriors over the millennia and they are often the difference between freedom and servitude.

But, the warriors in our country serve at the discretion and for the policies of our elected officials. This means that the work they do passes through the sausage works of politics before it comes to marching orders. Not all wars (most wars?) are just. Thus, it is not reasonable to conflate opposition to war, or to a particular war, with opposition to the military per se.

The love I feel for my nation has three main sources: the people as a collective, the nobility of our experiment and the vast diversity of the land itself. Though we become separated by distance, by values, by history, by future potential each person in our nation is my fellow citizen, a person whose rights and responsibilities I respect.

This great experiment, whether a people with roots in other lands can flourish as one country, is a noble one because it represents in microcosm the world. The fact that our history has many regional, ethnic, even religious conflicts does not take away from the experiment, rather it underwrites it. Can we live with and grow together in spite of the depth of our differences? That a nation can persist, can become great under such circumstances is hopeful.

Finally, this land that is our land. The oceans and their shores. The rivers and lakes. Old mountains like the Appalachians and young vibrant mountains like the Rockies. Vast areas of level fertile soil in a humid climate. Even vaster areas of thin, rocky soil in arid climates. The forests and the wildlife, the farms and the ranches. The wild places and the domesticated. It is a wonder and a full lifetime, even two full lifetimes would not be enough to explore it.

It is this combination of people, political purpose and powerful geography that makes me love where I was born and where I will die. The good old U.S.A.