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September Collection - Autumn

Today is the autumn equinox: the hours of light and of darkness are equal. I’m told that at the two equinoxes, if you stand an egg on its narrow end it will balance, just as the earth hangs on a point of balance between life and death. (Although darkness can be comforting, and death is part of life.)

The tradition of the triple goddess, in her many guises, divides a woman’s life into Maiden, Mother, Crone. We are moving into the powerful time of the Crone.

But before the trees take on the bareness of winter, the earth has one last riotous party to throw for us. I think the word cornucopia must have been invented for autumn.

Did you know, by the way, that the word autumn is the only seasonal name that comes from the Latin, rather than Germanic roots?

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe;
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruit and flowers.

William Blake (To Autumn)

 

This Wednesday, 26 September, is the Harvest Moon, always the full-moon closest to the date of the equinox.

There are harvest festivals of various kinds in almost all cultures. If you’re a parent or a teacher, you can find some interesting ideas for involving children in harvest celebration by clicking here.

Here’s a very mellow Neil Young singing Harvest Moon (and yes that is Emmylou Harris on backing vocals)

But there’s a full moon risin’
Let’s go dancin’ in the light
We know where the music’s playin’
Let’s go out and feel the night.

Neil Young

Lots of blogging friends are recording the changing season: Anita has some gorgeous photographs; Elaine indulges in a bit of confession; Melanie spots a touch of frost on her allotment.

At Hedgewizard, a blog I’ve only just started reading, his grumpily jam-oriented post on autumn made me laugh out loud. I confess I’m definitely in the romantic dreamer camp when it comes to autumn. (And while we’re on the subject of Hedgewizard, you’ll enjoy this post of his as well. Nothing to do with autumn and everything to do with laughing nastily at his misfortune! Oh dear.)

Christine gave her reflections on Autumn a few days back and I share her view of the season as an opportunity for new beginning. Jen suggests a creative and moving ritual for letting go. Both these posts are well worth exploring.

I snapped this photograph at Turvey Abbey last week and thought the flowers could almost double as a burning bush.

On Wednesday begins the rejoicing of the Jewish festival of Sukkot.

And we sit in a sukkah, the tabernacle itself, which is just a shed, a shack, open to the sky, with just a covering of leaves for a roof. It’s our annual reminder of how vulnerable life is, how exposed to the elements.

And yet we call Sukkot our festival of joy, because sitting there in the cold and the wind, we remember that above us and around us are the sheltering arms of the divine presence.

If I were to summarise the message of Sukkot I’d say it’s a tutorial in how to live with insecurity and still celebrate life.

 

Dr Jonathan Sacks

Living with insecurity and still celebrating life is something we are all called to do, and the season of autumn brings that home to us. Wendell Berry puts it well:

The wind of the fall is here
It is everywhere. It moves
every leaf of every
tree. It is the only motion
of the river. Green leaves
grow weary of their colour.
Now evening too is in the air.
The bright hawks of the day
subside. The owls waken.

From Sabbaths 2001

And finally, because as you know I like to indulge in a bit of poignancy, I close with Eva Cassidy singing Autumn Leaves:

© 2007 Anchors and Masts.