Ripened, Turns, Ebbs As Autumn Equinox Calls

AUSTRALIAN AUTUMN.
by DOROTHEA MACKELLAR. 

 

"This is the gentlest season of the year.

From mists of pearl and gold

The slow, sweet hours unfold,

To crystal colours, still

As glass, but not as chill.

All birds speak softly in the autumn bush.

One bellbird from the deep

Like a call heard in sleep

Chimes: in the bronze-gold gloom

Cool greenhood orchids bloom.

Brown leaves are withering on the alien trees.

The metal of our hills

Is veiled with blue that fills

The spirit with a bright

Sense of intrinsic light.

Now that the dew has vanished, sheep lie

down

By companies content

In wilga-shade and scent;

The reaper sounds nearby

Like the cicadas' cry.

And so the mellow day flows on to dusk,

And loveliness that grows

With skies of mauve and rose;

While fragrant smoke-plumes lie

Subtle as memory.

Curled round our hearts in this still jewelled

air,

Risen from the pulsing fire

Many-hued like desire.

Overhead stars blaze white.

Superb in frosty night.

This is the kindliest season of the year.

The sun's gold arrows all

Have lost their barbs; thick fall

The berries ripe, and still

Each bird may have his fill.

Now peace and plenteousness have spread

their wings

After the blessed rains

On autumn hills and plains.

Remains the exile's mind

Aloof, tormented, blind."

(Cf. F. P. Smith, in "The Spectator," April 12, 1924 also "S.M.H." Leader, May 31, 1924.)

Worimi Seasons 

by Tony Searl

Come, come let us sip

on less barbed golden tips,

rays less laser, less sharp a

falling heat as shy sky falls

retreats asunder in Mabon feast. 

 

As rivers cooler day equals night

a momentary same length of light;

yet more tepid tidal waters wave

still relentless run and fall and frolic,

still, still as more leaves leave, let go float

down, streaming decaying go to ground

each one, each won, like little nests emptied

leaves when ready, seeds set sail flowing full

falling to sea to birth to feed to rest and ripen. 

 

Our Autumnal Daze simply slows a gentler coming

Beds down now our Next Reclusive Winter

horizon now of shorter sun prepares, receives,

a restive inner path towards my home, my hearth.

 

"In Australia, Mabon falls close to the end of Daylight Savings time, and the change in the time that evening falls makes us very aware that winter is on its way, and that summer is well and truly over. 

It is at Mabon that the Cauldrons are first lit again, the last of the summer fruits are eaten in thanks, and summer ribbons and garlands are put away in preparation for the colder months.

Mabon is the second harvest, and the Goddess is mourning her fallen consort as he has been cast down, but the rebirth found in the seeds of harvest gives hope for the future, and the continuing circle of hope. Mabon is a time of gathering, of preparation. It is also a time to walk among the gum trees, smelling the resin and the eucalyptus oils in the air, and gathering oils, barks, plants and herbs to be dried for culinary, medicinal and magickal purposes.

At the Autumnal Equinox, altars are dressed with leaves and bark, the last of the flowers and the first of the winter fruits. Suitable offerings include autumnal vegetables and pickles, and preserved fruits and root crops. Mabon is a time to acknowledge the joys of living, as well as the suffering that is a part of life. It is a time for meditation and repose, and for spending time with close family and Coven members in silent appreciation of the relationships we share and that strengthen us.

In the Southern hemisphere, Mabon falls on the 21st and 22nd of March, and in the Northern hemisphere it falls on the 21st and 22nd of September. It is associated with the festivals of Winter Finding (Teutonic) and Alban Elfed (Scottish)." Thank you Aussie Wytch