The Sun is behind us, the dark lies ahead,
Come now the Winter, set the Summer to its bed.
Time now to harvest, to reap and to store,
Gather up your harvest and step through the door.
As the darkness and light settle into balance for the Autumnal Equinox, I walk with an eye to the shadows and sunshine. After a long day of rain, this afternoon interlude of blue sky and brisk cloud-sweeping wind is more than welcome. It shifts the weight of lethargy inside me as cleanly as the leaves and twigs it scatters from the tree tops. I imagine the great trunks feel as relieved as I do to loose some of their burden.
Gratitude is not far away at this, the time of second harvest. After acknowledging and sitting with the ideas of sacrifice and transformation over Lammas I now move firmly into the grateful joy that comes when I witness the abundance of this beautiful Land. The hawberries hang in ruby red droplets from drooping branches, elderberries shiver in clouds above my head and the fallen leaves and acorn cups in my hand feel like the most precious gift
It is in autumn that I feel the World offers us her most precious treasures and if we are awake and aware enough to notice them we can be full to the brim with awe and wonder and gratitude. This feeling is as much a tonic as any bracing wind and the golden glare of sunshine seems to fill me inside and out with an abiding love for the Land and all its creatures.
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Tucked behind this however, and sending out its shadow fingers into the brightness is a sense of unease, a sharp feeling that grips my heart that feels a little like anxiety. I am curious as to where this has come from when only moments before I was fairly bouncing with delight. Upon closer inspection I realise my thoughts have turned, suddenly, to death.
At the root of these seemingly random thoughts is fear; fear of losing and being lost, fear of disappearing without thought or desire which is (though we rarely like to consider it) a possibility for us all. Life will inevitably be followed by death and the when and the how is something we rarely have control over. My heart was pounding with shadows of panic; a desire to make it home to my loved ones, to not be lost to the darkness right now, this moment when all seemed so right.
And then I remember I am standing in the Equinox, at the doorway between light and dark. Now is the time when death becomes a visible, tangible and necessary part of life; dressing the
landscape in decaying leaves, fading berries, fields of stubble and orchards of fallen fruits. Is it any wonder, really, that in this moment when my heart is beating with the rhythm of the season I
feel close to both life and death?
Clothed in Autumn colours,
Step through the door.
The Equinox upon us,
Step through the door.
Should we consider both sides of the Equinox doorway on this day of harvest and gratitude and celebration?
Re
joice in all we have, the beauty and the abundance. Celebrate our achievements and our privilege and pray for enough, again and always. But also, remember those creatures and places that are suffering from lack; for whom abundance – be it in food, in beauty or in biodiversity – may be edging closer to the darkness than any of us would like to be. And know that the shadow of such things can draw over any of us, at any moment, without warning.So yes, I will be thankful and be joyful while I can! And at the same time let the uncertainty of the darkness drive me towards acts of compassion and generosity of spirit. Then whenever the darkness does come to call I know I will be able to meet it with a torch of love beside me to light the way ahead.
I walk with Sun behind me
and flaming torch beside,
fuelled by the journey
that led me to this night.
The spring through to summer
has birthed bounty for us all,
but now we must heed
the crow's carrion call;
and work to quickly gather
in the harvest's fading light
supplies that will see us
through the growing nights.
And to share the abundance
between hands, bellies and beasts;
let none be absent
from the great harvest feast.
So that as we slip silently
into Winter's cold embrace
we do so filled with memory
and a smile upon our face,
that shines like a promise
in the weakening light,
a pledge that we will still be here
at the end of Darkest Night.
Preparations
Keli Tomlin
All words and pictures copyright Keli Tomlin 2018
Keli is a green-spirited Celebrant and writer based in Derbyshire, UK. She creates ceremonies and holds space for deep connection with the Land and enjoys exploring her own connections through poetry, prose and original stories. Find out more at Keli Tomlin Ceremonies.
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