Autumnal Equinox Not

I rarely let an equinox (or solstice, for that matter) pass without at least a nod on this, of late much-neglected, blog. Today is one day after the autumnal equinox, as held by global consensus, but while nothing deters the sun from meeting its appointed rounds, humanity is more subject to pressures of the sort the sun, thank the Lord, never feels. Better late than never.

Above I say “by global consensus” because the equinox took place here (Detroit region) on Monday, the 22rd. But elsewhere in the world, say in Budapest, the city of my birth, it took place on Tuesday, the 23rd. Based on this site, which lists 145 major cities around the globe, a minority of 53 places experienced the equinox on Monday, a majority of 92 experienced it Tuesday. And I celebrate it Wednesday. Have rarely felt comfortable with results based on majority vote…

How it comes about that twice each year day and night have the same length is explained in this earlier blog post (link). I keep revisiting that post because celestial geometry is several levels above my mental pay-grade. So now we are a-march again, from equinox to solstice, with the days shortening but, I hope, our spirits gaining light.

The Dark, the Light

Some dreary element in modern life,

Its endless noise and ever-pointless strife,

Inclines me every autumn to observe

With something not unlike pious reserve

The movement of the sun, that best of clocks,

Its needle now on the Fall Equinox.

Marking Autumn

We make our farewell to the summer past and the autumn just arrived with this bouquet of “flowers,” perhaps the most spectacular product of our garden this season. The flowers are in quotes because it is the leaves of the Coleus that give it its perennial distinction. The flowers are lovely too, but they are delicate blues and pass rapidly in Spring.

This year’s passage from summer to fall had the unusual feature—we’re told that it takes place at twenty-year intervals. On the night of the autumnal equinox, the harvest moon is full. We were lucky: clear skies. We were out in the garden, near the Coleus in its half-barrel, and looking up saw the bright full moon with Jupiter marking a tiny but equally bright spot immeditately beneath it at the six o’clock spot.

The plaque above the Coleus is a favorite too. Here it is close enough up to make its meassage readable.