This is the moment when the days get rapidly shorter, when you can still feel the warmth of summer tinged with a fresher breeze and sometimes a snap in the air, when you're tempted to relight a fire in the hearth after months of non-use, when nature becomes a swirl of yellow, orange and red brightness, when the sky changes fast and multicolour, multiform clouds quickly criss-cross it, and when you can taste the last offerings of mother earth before the cold, barren days of winter.
It depends on where you live, but here in Europe ans also in North America, apples, pears, grapes, blackberries, honey, walnuts, hazelnuts, squashes, pumkins, potatoes and corn are some of the delicious food nature offers us in September and October.
And, in some amazing harmony, a lot of these fruits and vegetables echo with their colours the amber tones nature takes in this period. The golden yellows and firy reds seem to pay a tribute to the sun, a last homage as the nights begin to overpower the days and before the start of the dark season, the day after Samhain.
Since it happens on this Saturday, I'd like to talk a bit about this second harvest festival, the Autumn Equinox.
I. Quick history
At the equinox, "equal night" in latin, night and day will be of similar length. After, the nights will be longer than the days, and will keep on taking on length until the winter solstice, end of December.
Harvest festivals can be found in many cultures around the world. Actually, probably in every sedentary cultures growing crops. They are very old pre-Christian celebrations, some of whose traditions can still be found in folklore, especially in Ireland and the UK, or other countries that have retained a lot of pagan customs (see the festival of Guldize in Cornwall for instance).
A tradition in particular appears to have been widespread: giving special treatment to the last sheaf standing in the harvested field.
A custom attested in Normandy (northwestern region of France) until at least the end of the 19th century, was for reapers to dance around the last sheaf, as, one can imagine, a way to celebrate the bounty of the harvest. [1]
