So this year its the 20th of March the Vernal balance of day and night- from here on in the days will be lengthening, St Patrick and Sheelah herald the fertility season, after Brigid’s chilly official beginning. The rhythms of solstice to solstice, shortest day to longest day and equinox to equinox equal and growing to equal and dwindling have me pinioned on the wheel of fortune, that tarot card with the Sphinx the Serpent and the Anubis, arms akimbo legs like the Leonardo turning the cartwheel through the year, four directions North South East West and the other two Above and Below, the quickening and the slowing, the ever turning wheel. I had in mind my project in the Glen to go from solstice to solstice, but now I’m coming round to the equal markers for a duration, less extreme….more equal and just so sweetly touched by melancholy
Today I went with I to the bridges. We met at 8, he asked for help putting up the sign he’d painted with the Dipper on it, asking walkers to pick up after themselves. It was a relocation from the place at the top of the zigzag, and a much kinder spot for it, and more potent here too.
As I arrived I saw Greta on the footpath by the Prosto bench, she is often here in the early part of the day before the park gets busy with walkers, and I saw another white shape in the tree by the bench, passing it off as litter as it so often is I couldn’t help looking at the still white shape, larger than Greta, inanimate as a plastic bag, as I approached both shapes took to the air… Greta has a mate.