photo from pixabay
Just when I think I’ll be like the guy who eschews all media in the wake of a Trump victory, and despairing of all things tech, I read this little article from Vox and glory in the creative and informative possibility (and sometimes, like today in this article, reality) of the internet. I was looking for inspiration, and here it is.
To wit: If you’re on the East Coast, and hunkering down, as my good friends and colleagues are, for yet another winter assault—Happy Spring, guys!— at exactly 12:15 today, it’s official. Since moving West, and particularly during those first weeks of the new school year, I stood poised between two time zones. Whenever the clock read noon here, I’d think, “School’ll be out in five minutes.” Though the tendency has diminished somewhat, I know that today, when 9:15 appears, about 20 minutes away as I write this, I’ll be thinking of my former life.
Brian Resnick, the author, is clever and smart, but it seems a bit far-fetched to think that the explanation for our tilting planet can be explained by “a massive object hitting Earth billions of years ago” when later in the article answering the question, “Are there equinoxes on other planets?” he declares, “Yes! All of the planets in the solar system rotate on a tilted axis and therefore have seasons.” Hmmm, that’s a head-scratcher, and without going into the science of it, was there a massive celestial event that pummeled all planets causing these tilts of various degrees?
Today’s the day of “equal night”—equi-nox—yes, students this is one of the many benefits of mastering those Latin roots. Today should be about equally split between light and dark, the balance almost 12/12, and if you’re a master of minutiae, Resnick links to the particulars. Those of you who want to balance eggs, go ahead, but it’s a myth that today is unique, that “…the celestial bodies generating the perfect balance of forces needed” have arrived. Balance, as it turns out, is a rite of passage, not of Spring.
When my younger sister arrived at our family home this past August to witness the eclipse, we fell into a hug; it’d been over a year since I’d seen her, felt that I’m-holding-you-with-all-my-heart embrace. As we clung, she whispered, “Welcome home. We’re moving to Mexico in September.” In his article, Resnick asserts, “And while some flock to Stonehenge for the spring equinox, too, the real place to be is Mexico.” Anita, you’ve always had an unerring sense of adventure. Go for it! (I miss you.) I’ll be at home balancing eggs— and thinking of you.
I glance over my shoulder; it’s almost 9:15. You know what that means, right?