Happy Equinox!

Here’s a very pink-and-purple selection of pictures to mark the tipping point between long nights and long days (in this hemisphere, at least). There’s yellow out there, but I tend to think of that as belonging earlier in the spring, or maybe a little later, as dandelions replace tired daffodils. Here, now, the rosemary is running riot (and quite right too, with Lady Day next week), and the violets are bringing their own colour, and there are grape hyacinths all over the place, and it’s a lovely day to get the washing out. Overhead, there’s white: plum blossom and cherry blossom (next door’s plums are always ahead of ours, so the show goes on and on).

Some people take today as the first day of spring. I prefer the Celtic calendar, which puts it at the beginning of February. Despite the occasional cognitive dissonance (and wasn’t February miserable this year?) I like it that way: mostly because I can’t be doing with Midsummer Day somehow being the first day of summer. Anyway, I’m in too good a mood to argue today. Today’s it’s definitely spring.

The golden evening

Looking down a wet tarmac path into a bright pale yellow sunset

Sunset on All Saints’ Day, and I find myself singing The golden evening brightens in the west. Although this year We feebly struggle/ They in glory shine seems more like where I’m at, and apart from all the leaves the photo is saying sempiternal though sodden towards sundown three months early.

I’ve been feeling somewhat adrift from the seasons this year. My calendar emptied out after mid June, and you can never quite believe the weather these days. The garden is running wild with most of the fruit unpicked. Suddenly it’s November. But I got out into the golden evening on All Saints’ Day, and that’s something.