Fall Equinox '26
climate change keeps resetting the odds,
100 year storms every decade rather than every century,
Fall colors arriving a week or two earlier than before,
droughts increasingly common, not the exception,
devastating fires, devastating floods,
powered by the climate changes
our ignorance and self-indulgence
wreak upon the Earth,
as summer here in the piedmont slowly slips toward autumn,
excessive heat and humidity still assert themselves,
as much moisture crammed into the air as it can hold,
a watered garden thriving,
because of what previous years stored in the ground,
as I sit outside the last full day of summer,
distant thunder softly announces itself
over the laboring air-conditioner,
our driveway points directly east,
aiming for the next few days
exactly where the Sun will rise,
hours of light and dark perfectly balanced,
would that that balance outside
could find such a balance inside. . .
while I've been living the moments of my days,
daylight hours have diminished clearly, surely,
nighttime hours have asserted themselves clearly, surely,
I love the empowerment of electricity
to bring us light when the darkness seeks
to make us forget what we want to do this day,
to bring us coolness when the heat pushes us
to forget everything but how hot we are,
celestial mechanics rule the ascendancy and diminishment
of physical light upon the Earth, essential for life as we know it,
the equinox, and the solstice, mark a slight pause,
a transition, in the availability of that light,
there is a grand relationship of Earth to Sun,
yet local realities still rule our moments,
last night near one inch of rain fell,
the sky awakens today within the dominion of grey clouds,
a few minutes ago, the Sun broke through just enough
for one bright beam to pull my eyes down the driveway
and notice the sun rising to the east,
a heavy lid of cloud comes in to block that sharp clarity,
and hangs on, and hangs on,
celestial noon still happens at the Sol Pole at CFS,
students and staff still gather to mark this passing
with chants and symbolic cookies,
though without the Sun to confirm the event,
I made treats, half of white chocolate,
half of semi-sweet chocolate,
to embody this day in metaphorical truth,
I think of the many ancient peoples
whose day-to-day lives, like ours,
must have swallowed them in the mundane,
but who also remembered to honor the change of seasons
in their architecture, in their holy constructions,
in their remembering of primal truth,
is it not at least prudent
to notice and mark every grand turning of Heaven and Earth,
to open ourselves to the wisdom
that "day and night, half and half," offers us?
we may not change our behavior,
but we can open ourselves to learn
what the universe wants to teach us,
how it seeks to elder us,
our bodies in their makeup remember the stars,
should not our souls remember, too?
by Henry H. Walker
September 22, ‘26
