Autumnal EquinoxToday is the autumnal equinox in the Northern Hemisphere of our planet. The preferred designation is “September equinox,” since it applies to the entire orb, rather than just one hemisphere; but since I am writing about autumn in the North, I’m going to use the former. The equinox is the point at which the axis of the Earth is tilted neither toward nor away from the sun.
Today the sun is directly over the equator as the Earth rotates, so there are as many hours of light as of darkness. (Actually, today it will appear that there are more minutes of daylight than darkness, but that’s due to the atmosphere’s distortion of light bending around the horizon. On Friday, day and night will appear to be equal, though the daylight period will actually be shorter!) In case you haven’t guessed, I love the autumn — I love it so much, in fact, that I wrote a poem in tribute. I am not a poet, so I offer my apology to any who may be offended by violation of meter and rhyme. Happy autumnal equinox!
Scientific explanation aside, there is a bitter-sweetness to this time of year. I always seem to want to cling to the lavish hospitality of long summer days and balmy nights, carefree, and unhurried; yet I simultaneously harbor a sense of great excitement about the impending days. I am in thrall to the flaming hills against an azure sky. The cooler temperatures invigorate, inspiring football games and hayrides and drives through the country. We put our gardens to bed and inhale the curiously satisfying tang of decaying leaves and smoke. Halloween brings witches and goblins and candy corn. Thanksgiving comes and goes. Suddenly, it’s time to deck the halls and string lights on a tree in the living room.
