The daily Astorian., September 22, 2016, Page 23, Image 36

SEPTEMBER 22, 2016 // 23
Fall reflections
PHOTO BY LYNETTE RAE MCADAMS
Fall arrives to Willapa Bay, near Oysterville, Washington.
Th e autumnal equinox’s
perfect point of stasis takes
place Th ursday, Sept. 22
By LYNETTE RAE
MCADAMS
S
Spring is “in the air” for
weeks with subtle signals,
summer hangs in one long
arc of leisure, and winter,
when it comes, sneaks in
with a slow but deepening
chill. Unlike its seasonal
counterparts however, fall
seems always to arrive
with a kind of suddenness
— one day you’re basking
in the full rays of summer,
and the next, as if by the
throwing of some celestial
switch, autumn has arrived.
Technically, fall begins
for us this year at precisely
7:23 a.m. Thursday, Sept.
22, the exact moment that
the plane of Earth’s equator
will appear to pass directly
through the sun.
This astronomical event,
called an equinox, hap-
pens twice each year — in
spring and fall — marking
the days on which our
entire planet experiences
a nearly equal measure of
day and night.
Essentially a point of
stasis on the great swing of
the seasonal pendulum, an
equinox is an occasion of
perfect balance — the slack
tide of time, if you will,
when everything stands
motionless, just before a
directional shift. At the
vernal equinox, that shift
is toward the lengthening
of days, but for the autum-
nal equinox, currently our
chief concern, the only
way forward is with a mad
descent toward darkness.
Take heart: There’s
plenty of time between now
and then; time, still, for fall
to tap you swiftly on the
shoulder, announcing itself
with a special crispness to
the morning air. Or perhaps
it will find you in the gar-
den, knee deep in what the
pagans called the “second
harvest,” a sacred time that
THIS YEAR, AS THE SHADOWS START
TO LENGTHEN, AS THE FRUITS OF
SUMMER’S LABOR BEG TO FILL YOUR
BASKET, HOW WILL YOU PARTAKE IN
THESE DAYS OF EQUAL MEASURE?
they commemorated during
the festival of Mabon. A
celebration of the equinox,
Mabon was a time to honor
the changing of the seasons
— to give thanks for the
sunlight that had nourished
a bountiful crop, and to
recognize and respect the
coming darkness — in
every way a happy nod to
natural balance.
This year, as the shad-
ows start to lengthen, as the
fruits of summer’s labor beg
to fi ll your basket, how will
you partake in these days of
equal measure? Will you be
like the woodland squirrel,
his every waking moment
consumed with preparation
for the coming winter?
Or more like the patient,
swollen spider, who spins
a single web and is content
to wait for what fate brings
her?
All things being equal,
perhaps the best choice is
to be like the salmon, who,
having feasted beyond the
river’s mouth throughout
the long, lazy days of sum-
mer, senses at last a fresh-
ness to the falling rain.
Taking this timeless cue,
and without a backward
glance, it makes the final
turn toward home, filled
with an ancient, instinctive
wisdom: Our brightest days
may already be behind us,
but the deep, rich purpose
of the season is yet to be.