It’s the autumn equinox, the time of year that looks ahead to the dark days and nights of winter, and glances back, just a little bit wistfully, to the glory days of June, July and August.
Here in the northern hemisphere, it’s the last day of summer – autumn has finally arrived. For friends and family in the southern hemisphere, it’s reversed, so it’s the first day of spring.
Confusingly though, for meteorologists, autumn begins on 1 September, making the autumn months September, October and November.
On the equinox, day and night are roughly 12 hours long.
In the agricultural calendar, we have to wait until Michaelmas – 29 September – for the quarter day.
Years ago, a traditional meal for Michaelmas was goose, raised in the stubble fields. If you were a tenant farmer, you might have given the goose to your landlord. Which is a shame, because you, being poor, probably needed it more than them, being rich and powerful.
Still, it was ever thus.
But whatever you do, don’t pick blackberries after Michaelmas because apparently it’s the day the Devil spits on them.
Whatever, whenever, the equinox marks that turning point of the seasons.
School has started, university freshers’ weeks are upon us and it’s a time of change.
Short sleeves and flimsy linen dresses are put back in the cupboard, but within easy reach should we get an Indian Summer in October, and the DM Chelsea boots are given a spit and polish and you thank goodness that years ago you bought the ones with zips now that you’re finding it ever harder to pull them onto your feet.
It’s a time of discovery, when you find you actually do have more coats and jackets than there are days of the week and, in actual fact, they’re not bad, not bad at all.
It’s a time to top up the wood pile, order the heating oil and start knitting again.
Cosy nights in, stews that stick to your ribs and cocoa instead of coffee.
Watching some brilliant drama – old favourites like the latest series of Slow Horses, due any moment now, and the finale of Stranger Things, where the child actors are now grown up but the story is still (I hope) as gripping, and then new shows too, which will unfold as the months unfurl.
Curling up with a good book without feeling guilty about it, and leaving the garden a bit overgrown for the wildlife, ready to attack it properly at a much later date.
And enjoying the wonderful spectacles of the night sky.
I don’t know about you, but I like the autumn equinox.
Maddie Grigg 