The one 24 hours when day and night are more or less equal all over the world. Happens twice a year. That’s a big thing. In the days when we, the eejit humans of now, were completely connected with natural life the tomorrow would be a day of celebration and of introspection, not that most folk could spell either of those these days. I know this and accept it, but it won’t stop me mentioning the old ways. Most of what I ever see rising into Facebook or other social media platforms seems to centre, a lot, around the best make-up. Perhaps there’s a truth therein, something about concealment, pretence, I don’t know, even though it does, I confess, bother me. I remember mornings leaving a warm bed, pulling on something waterproof and protective and heading out with a torch to tramp many lambing pastures. I remember hearing my squelchy footsteps, facing down a frickin gale or diminuited by hail or snow. Make-up could not have been further from my thoughts, let alone face-lifts nor the perfect frock. And I am glad of that.

Although the equinoxal shift is not actually felt, it does mean something, even now in this material world. And, for those who are curious (my favourite word) the Autumnal Equinox has a word to say. Because night and day are of equal length, there is the opportunity for a balance shift. It is like being in a Thin Place, and you might like to look that one up. We have plenty here, on the island, on the edge of the edge. When life is out of alignment, such as a balance between work and rest, giving and receiving. This equinox mirrors trees losing their leaves, the surrender of old habits, heavy burdens, old commitments, none of which serve now.

As I left work from a very pleasant day at the Best Cafe Ever, in the slapdash of rain, a crow came down over my car, lowering before me. The road is a winding for sure, and this crow followed every turn, leading me. I watched its wings lift and shift, staying with me for a long time. I have never experienced that before. At one corner, it lifted away to land inside a Rowan tree laden with berries. I slowed as it settled, looking straight at me. Thankfully, the oncoming traffic was non-existent.

In the old ways, Crow is an omen of change, of the knowledge of right and wrong, way, way beyond the limitation of human thinking.

Happy Equinox.