Equinox

Not able to be out early this morning for the actual moment of Equinox, but today it is time to celebrate another turn of the year, and one which heralds my favourite half. Whilst others mourn summer, I happily anticipate the winter months. It's still warm and sunny here in western Brittany, although we had our share of electric storms last week. My rituals are usually simple things I do every day - walking, writing and cooking. There are red apples and still plenty of strawberries in my little adopted garden, so I make pies, crumbles and compotes for friends and freezer.
A walk in the forest concentrates the mind on the changing season and the sounds becoming more evident as fresh energies stir. The shallow rasp of my dog's breath contrasts with the slow, gentle in- and exhalations of the wind, and falling sap dries the rustle of browning leaves and brittle ferns. The post-deluge urgent clamour of water is now hushed to gossipy eddies along the rocky stream beds. Many of the footpaths are sporting wiggly stripes where their topcoat has been stripped by temporary torrents forcing their way downhill.
It's been a wonderful day, and best of all, I can actually see it. After nearly eight months of living in a blurred world, my vision is clear and balance restored, so I am well in tune with this equinox...