Spring Equinox

Vernal Double Whammy – ND #140

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Daffodils Ready to Burst Forth – Photo: L. Weikel

Vernal Double Whammy

I think we can all agree, Spring 2023 arrived prematurely. Unsettlingly so, at least for some of us who lament the possibility that we’re witnessing an observable shift in our climate. But as of earlier today, the equinox occurred and the season has officially arrived, bringing with it the promise of new beginnings and baby bunnies. Even more exciting, on Tuesday, 21 March 2023, we get to experience a vernal double whammy, a veritable turbo-boost of the ‘new beginning’ energy heralded by today’s equinox.

This double whammy of which I speak is the somewhat rare occurrence of both the arrival of spring and a new moon taking place at almost precisely the exact same degree. Specifically, at 1:23 p.m. (EDT) on Tuesday, the Sun and Moon will be conjunct each other (hence a ‘new moon’) at 0 degrees 56 minutes – essentially the 1st degree of the astrological sign of Aries.

The vernal equinox, the technical arrival of spring in the Northern Hemisphere, is the moment the Sun crosses over from Pisces into the sign of Aries. That’s what actually makes it the spring equinox, the moment when the sun spends an equal amount of time both above and below the horizon.

Sunset 17 March 2023 – Photo: L. Weikel

Why So Special?

But new moons come and go, and they do not always coincide with the precise arrival of spring, as this year’s new moon does. That’s what makes this month’s new moon so special. We have an abundance of energy heralding clean slates and new beginnings happening at the very beginning of the feisty sign of Aries: a new season (spring, the traditional beginning of a new year in ancient calendars), a new moon (always, every month, an opportunity to ‘plant new seeds’ of ideas or projects.

Along with these lunar and seasonal synchronicities, other astrological occurrences this week portend an influx of remarkable and almost certainly palpable ‘big’ energy. On the 23rd, Pluto’s reign in Capricorn (since 2008) ends and we start experiencing Pluto in Aquarius, where it hasn’t been in 248 years. While we’ll get a taste of Pluto in Aquarius from this week until June, the planet will retrograde back into Capricorn for one final instigation of transformations in societal foundations (governments, corporations, financial markets) through January 2024.

On Sunday, Mercury moved from Taurus into Aries and just today, Venus moved from Aries into Taurus. This may all sound like a lot of gobbledygook (astrobabble?), but it is unusual for so many planets to be making big shifts from one sign into another. Not so much for the smaller planets, because they travel around the sun much faster than the behemoths Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus, and Pluto.

Big Shifts

My sense of the overarching energetic shift that we’re all going to be subject to (and which many of us will distinctly notice and feel in our bodies, minds, emotions, and observations in the outside world) – and already are, in many cases – is a radically different approach to what we’ve all been witnessing and experiencing in our lives for the past 13 years or so.

That’s why, I suspect, I was nudged to write this tonight. Awareness is power. And whether you ascribe to the possibility that the astral bodies above us have any impact upon our tiny bodies here on Earth or not, I’m of the mind that it doesn’t hurt to set intentions. If we know there is the potential for radical changes, re-sets, and transformation on the horizon, why wouldn’t we care enough to at least take responsibility for setting our intentions on the changes we would like to manifest in our lives?

So, forewarned is forearmed. Some major shifts are on the brink of happening, my friends. Take a moment to envision the changes you would like to call into your life. Surely getting quiet for a few moments and contemplating our lives’ trajectories is a worthwhile endeavor no matter what.

Plant your seeds of change well. And don’t discount Pluto’s ability to profoundly shake stuff up.

(T+140)

Setting of Tone – Day 859

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Hawk – 19 March 2021 – Photo: L. Weikel

Setting of Tone

Today turned out to be a much more delightful day, weather-wise, than what I was expecting. While it was still chillier than last week, I was grateful that yesterday’s dreary pall of rain didn’t carry over into today. As we took a walk late this afternoon the lingering breath of winter felt exhilarating. And encountering this messenger, surely one of our horny hawks from last week’s extravaganza of mid-sky mating rituals and raucous attention-getting, felt like a seasonal setting of tone.

What tone might this hawk be setting?

First and foremost, Hawk (as an archetype, hence the capitalization) is a messenger. And this one perched not on a pole or at the apex of a tree, as is their usual preferred observatory, but rather smack in the middle of a telephone wire, perfectly balanced above the center of a roadway. And s/he watched us approach for a good quarter of a mile before taking flight again.

It strikes me that for a bird as hefty as a hawk, balancing on a wire takes more skill and focus than might be demanded of a sparrow or bluebird. This fact gave more credence to the deliberate intention of the act itself. This hawk was not trying to hide itself from us or observe us from afar. In fact, I swear it maintained eye contact with me the entire time I walked toward it with the hope of getting as clear a photo as possible.

I’m not suggesting that it showed up just for us, but surely a higher and more stable point would have been preferable as a hunting perch. And part of its message could therefore be that we need to bring an extra dose of skill and focus to achieve our goals this spring.

Communication, Creativity, New Life

Sitting on a telephone wire above the middle of a road. Being obvious and direct in its work as a messenger, possibly using new means of communication. Patiently awaiting the arrival of the new growth/life that so much effort was put into creating last week during the very public and unmistakable mid-air mating dances and rituals.

The energy I felt from this hawk was that it almost wanted to whack me upside the head with its wing. Perching there on a wire overhead it just felt like it was deliberately making itself obvious to us. It was pretty much demanding that we pay attention to it and heed its message – which at least partially was conveyed last week when she and her suitors made such a ruckus as they created new life.

Confirmation

Just as I started writing this post, I decided to choose a card from the Naked Heart Tarot deck, asking for a message on setting of tone for the spring season. I chose the Three of Wands.

To me, this card says yes, create a sacred space in which to focus your creative energy. Allow the rising sun that signifies the burgeoning energy of springtime to fill and illuminate your life. Give yourself a protected space in which to give this new life, this nascent creativity, room and space to grow.

Three of Wands – Naked Heart Tarot deck

(T-252)

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday – Day 494

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Anonymous Representative of Coronavirus Birthday Celebrants Everywhere

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday. Well, there’s a mouthful for you. What a day.

I gave birth to a certain someone 32 years ago today. Alas, the 19thof March was not the spring equinox that year, which definitely would’ve made the day even more sacred than it already his arrival certainly made it for me. But on the upside, there wasn’t a pandemic stampeding across the globe, with nary a facemask or bottle of hand sanitizer in sight.

Festivity Buzzkill

I have to say, this social distancing, and in some cases social isolation, is a festivity buzzkill. All in service to the preservation of mankind, though, which I totally support and appreciate.

However – and Karl will back me up on this I’m sure – we need to implement new rules with respect to pandemic birthdays. Why? Because when we’re forced to forego actually being together and celebrating as a family, somebody always ends up a LOSER.

Since we live fairly close to each other, we’ve frequently had the chance to celebrate birthdays with the “CVEB-Boy” as the years have gone by. All – every single one –has involved a sharing of cake (unless one or the other of us was out of town or otherwise indisposed).

All have involved birthday cake, most often of the Aunt Carol’s Cake variety.

This time, though, because of our adherence to the CDC and Commonwealth of Pennsylvania’s Guidance on maintaining social distancing, we found ourselves in a particularly difficult spot.

The Police song “Don’t Stand So Close to Me” kept repeating in a never-ending loop in my head, while my tastebuds yearned to be rewarded for my efforts not only in birthing a 9 lb. 4 oz. baby 32 years ago but also in baking a chocolate cake in the midst of a pandemic.

I risked my life buying butter and powdered sugar for that icing.

Proof of Love

You’ve heard the expression, “proof of life,” in kidnap situations? Well, I feel like I delivered proof of love instead.

This is what I delivered to the doorstep of my middle son this afternoon. In the midst of a pandemic.

Coronavirus Birthday Treats – Photo: L. Weikel

So, you tell me. (And yes, that’s three flavors of Owowcow ice cream, too). Even in the midst of a pandemic, when the meme above is (sadly but hilariously) representative of all  those celebrating birthdays around the world in these troubled times, I think we can all agree on one thing: this guy (my guy) scored. Big time.

Especially since he didn’t have to share any of it with us!

I hope you had a great birthday, Middle Son. Your personal anniversary, on the equinox no less, is especially precious this year. I hope we’ll be able to share the treats next year. In person.

(T-617)

Peepers – Day 129

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 3 Comments
Super Worm Moon – bisected by an errant cloud; Photo: L.Weikel

Peepers         

They started hatching last week, when the temperature soared to over 70 degrees two days in a row and the evenings barely dipped into the 40s.

A sure sign of spring, peepers are symbols of hope. They are evidence of life surviving the dark bleak wasteland of winter.

Their cacophonic voices can reach a frightful volume, especially when they all seem to be crawling out of their primordial ooze at the same time. The moistness of the boggy land just beyond and partially within the forests around our home lends itself to images of armies of these newly hatched amphibians poking their heads out of the mud in unison – or maybe in waves –  singing and croaking their way to dinner and sex. Or is it sex then dinner? Not sure. Maybe they’re just babies, Lisa. Get your mind out of the mud.

Onomatopoeia At Its Finest

Every year, as we walk our usual route, we’re enchanted by the emanations and eruptions coming from these swampy enclaves. Some peepers sound exactly as their names imply. Onomatopoeia at its finest. But then there are The Others.

The Others sound precisely like one might imagine beings from outer space sounding. You know, when they gurgle burgle up from their hiding places in the Earth’s mud only to sprout arms and legs and turn into massive praying mantis like beasts who make it clear they’ve been biding their time, patiently waiting for the perfect opportunity to become our tyrannical overlords – or eat us for dinner.

Those deeper, scratchier-voiced frogs that seem to arrive alongside the peepers lend themselves to active imaginations, especially since their volume grows exponentially as the sun sets and shadows make seemingly normal trees and branches appear deeply unfamiliar and a little bit spooky. I wish I could figure out how to upload my iPhone recording of these creatures and their preternatural voices. For now, this little recording by someone else will have to do.

Balanced Stillness

We took a walk this evening just after the moon had technically reached its full ripeness and just as the equinox was reaching its perfect point of balanced stillness.

Regrettably, as my rather pathetic photos show, a cloud cover marred her grand entrance and denied us the opportunity to behold the ‘full super worm moon’ in all her unfettered glory.

As we walked, though, we listened to the voices of the peepers and their compatriots growing louder and louder. A soft wind gently rustled the still leafless branches of the trees at the edge of the meadows making them clack and groan ever so softly. We sensed something.

We stopped and looked at each other. We both noticed it; the hairs on our arms and at the back of our necks rose up.

It was the Spirit of Spring Equinox arriving, tiptoeing into our lives, dangling her shoes from her fingertips, a slender finger held to her lips.

Bringing us hope.

(T-982)