Showing posts with label Seasons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seasons. Show all posts

Thursday, 21 June 2018

Winter is Coming...!

You know how it is. 
Some days you just wake up in one of those moods! 
For no apparent reason everything feels wrong, out of sorts and prickly.

After grumping my way through another wet, dreary, Sydney morning, I slunk off to the Art Gallery of NSW for one last peek at The Lady and the Unicorn exhibition.

Beauty always helps.
As does a walk.
Especially if that walk includes the sun finally breaking through the grey clouds, making the leaves sparkle and glisten like little green diamonds.

It was then that I realised that today was the Winter Solstice.
The shortest day of the year.
The beginning of the astronomical winter.

Oh woe is me!
The six coldest weeks of the year still lie ahead of us.

The solstice officially occurs in Sydney at 8:07pm.
Our day will only be 9:53:50 hrs long - a whole 4hr 31mins shorter than the Summer Solstice.

I've been thinking that we need to reinstate or establish some kind of warming ritual to make this short day/long night more enjoyable.

The Japanese celebrate by soaking in a hot bath with yuzu fruit, the English gather at Stonehenge to watch the sunrise, the Koreans eat red bean porridge and the Irish gather at Newgrange to see a shaft of sun light up an ancient burial chamber. At Casey Station, in the Australian Antarctic Division, they cut a hole in the ice and leap in briefly before retiring into a mobile hot spa. In Hobart, for Dark Mofo, the brave and foolish go for a nude solstice swim!

Maybe we could start National Doona Day - when we go to bed early and snuggle up with the ones we love under the covers?
Or we could bring back firecracker night - light a huge bonfire and let off catherine wheels?
Or perhaps we could simply speak a word of kindness.


Where and how will you be celebrating today's solstice?

Saturday, 23 September 2017

Happy September Equinox

The September Equinox is upon us. For those of us in the Southern Hemisphere, it is the Vernal (or Spring) Equinox; for our cousins in the Northern Hemisphere it is time for the Autumnal Equinox.

Daffodils & jonquils from my garden



The September equinox occurs when the Sun crosses the celestial equator. This is the imaginary line in the sky above the Earth’s Equator from north to south. On every other day of the year, either the Southern Hemisphere or the Northern Hemisphere tilts a little towards the Sun. But on the two equinoxes, the tilt of Earth's axis is perpendicular to the Sun's rays. This means that the time for our day and night is basically equal all around the world today (hence the word equinox). How equal the ratio between day and night actually is though, will depend on your latitude. Which means that Sydney actually had our day of roughly equal night and day on the 18th September.

The actual equinox though, happens either on September 22, 23, or 24 every year. The image below may or may not help!


The official time for the Equinox in Sydney was September 23rd at 6:02am (AEST).

In Japan, the equinox is celebrated with a week long Buddhist festival called Higan (which is translated as the Other shore). It's a time to reflect on your daily life and renew your commitment to Buddhist ideals. The focus is on moving from a world of delusion to one of awakening. Six key concepts are taught to help one reach the Other shore or Nirvana - giving, precepts, perseverance, diligence, zazen, and wisdom. It's also a time to visit the graves of ancestors to express gratitude.

Image Source

Normally the Equinoxes are a time to rejoice in moderate temperatures. However our spring equinox will be made more memorable this year with predicted all-time record breaking weather. Sydney is on course for two days of 33℃ (91.4℉) while some areas in Western Sydney and Western NSW could reach 40℃ (104℉). That's middle of summer weather, not the beginning of Spring!

Wherever you are, whatever your weather, I hope the September Equinox is kind to you and full of the beauty of one's heart and mind.

A beautiful wisteria I walk past on my way to work every day

Thursday, 6 October 2016

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Before Thomas Thwaites dreamed up the idea of being a GoatMan and before Peter Wohlleben communed with the trees in Germany, Frances Hodgson Burnett gave us the original back to nature, talk with the animals, boy child, Dickon.

Dickon is a kindred spirit to all the creatures that live on the moors. He mothers orphaned lambs and squirrels, talks to the robins and is followed around by a fox cub. He grows the best herbs and vegetables to feed his large family and he has the sunniest, most positive disposition of any human I've ever known!

He is too good to be true.

Mary and Colin are not.

Two more self-indulged, self-involved, selfish children you will not find anywhere.

The Magic of the garden and Dickon's influence changes all that though.

And there you have The Secret Garden in a nutshell.

My lovely Penguin Threads edition was designed by Jillian Tamaki. It's hand-stitched, then sculpt-embossed - front and back - to create a gorgeous tactile, aesthetically pleasing cover. I confess, the cover, ultimately, had more lasting appeal than the story.


The Secret Garden is one of those books I was sure that I had read as a child, but as the years went by I felt less and less certain about this. I knew what the book was about in general, but it didn't feel familiar or known.

Now that I have really and truly read it, I'm pretty sure that this was my first time.

The Indian section at the start and the finding of the garden were vaguely familiar, but I suspect I gave up on the book as a kid at this point. As an adult I loved the descriptions of the moors and the garden coming to life after winter, but as a kid I would have got bogged down by the exuberant and somewhat excessive garden love.

The preachy part of Burnett's voice, I could push into the background as an adult, but as a child, her obvious attempts to tell me how to be a good child got up my nose!

My thoughts and feelings about this book are more ambiguous now.

As an adult I could appreciate Burnett's use of perspective and how this led to her character's developing self-awareness and personal growth.

I thoroughly enjoyed the early sections that read like a homesick homage to English weather and seasons. I loved how she explored the healing nature of nature. I loved learning about 'wuthering' and the Yorkshire moors (a lovely nod to the Bronte's, I thought). The smells and textures and sounds of the moors were described beautifully - she made me want to go a wandering across the heather on the misty morn.

I was pleased to see an unlovely, unlikable, spoilt child as protagonist.

I felt uncomfortable with the racist attitudes towards the Indians, but could accept them as being of their times, reflecting the attitudes and assumptions of Victorian England. I felt a little weird about the miraculous cure of Colin, but of course, the only real malady he suffered from was hypochondria.

Mrs Sowerby, Dickon's mother, was a lovely, warm, generous character, but she also felt too good to be true most of the time. A mother of 12, living on the edge of the Yorkshire moors in grinding poverty being so cheerful and helpful and wholesome? Really?

I very definitely felt that the heavy handed 'magical' parable that the ending morphed into was evangelical and prissy. The only 'magic' involved in this story though, is the magic of mother nature doing her thing in the garden and some children discovering that keeping busy and active is better for you than sitting around bemoaning your aches and pains and only thinking about yourself. I'm not sure how this book has ended up with a magical realism tag in wikipedia.

I have since found out that Burnett embraced the tenets of Christian Science which believes that illness is an illusion that can only be cured by prayers. She also dabbled in the occult after the death of her son, Lionel. We can read The Secret Garden as being a tribute to Lionel and as a way for her to work through her depression and grief.

This explains the strong element of 'healing' via nature and 'beautiful thought', as Burnett called it, throughout the book.

I'm the first to acknowledge that being in nature and thinking positive thoughts are beneficial to one's health and well-being. A lovely story could have been crafted with this idea in mind. Colin's smug Magic lectures at the end could have happily been left out.

How did you find The Secret Garden when you reread as an adult?