Equinox

equinox_seeds

The last cucumber plucked, tomato plants pulled, hops and squash cut, seeds spread to dry. The wild turkeys feed on windfall apples and pears along the neighborhood streets, neglected imperfect fruit delicious in its fermenting, and strut into traffic. Days are shorter now. From raw harvest to measure, the Scales turn downward.

Rain came, early; the end of summer underlined by lightning, as if there might be any mistaking the change of season.

Thunder and roiling rising cloud armadas duel and pitch with cannon. A strike fried the wifi router and blew circuits, sent the dog under the bed, and me below deck away from the barrage on the southern windows.

Balance is never struck. I wonder at the phrase. Balance is a momentary pose found in vigilance and constant mediation, an asana of breath and intention. Was there ever a time of perfection? Sitting out on the cider house deck at sunset laughing while a train whistle blows in the distance. Perhaps. The moment dissolves into new tableau. It’s said one might balance an egg on end at the exact moment of the equinox.

Persephone falls.

Author: Kim K. McCrea

Kim K. McCrea worked as a System Analyst for 25 years building out the internet of things before returning to letters in 2017. Kim won Oregon Writers Colony 2018 essay competition, Treefort Wild West Writing Prize, and was awarded runner-up in Cutbank short prose contest; her work was short-listed for Proximity Magazine's Essay Prize and the Barry Lopez Creative Nonfiction Contest. Prose appears in Cutbank, Tishman Review, Thoughtfuldog, and Watershed Review. Kim lives in Eugene, Oregon, where she wrangles her Labrador in the rain. Unless otherwise credited, all photographs and images on this site are the original work of the author who retains all rights to their use .

8 thoughts on “Equinox”

  1. Favorite season, can’t discern if it’s on account of my birthday coming or an excuse to be morose. The drama in the change so rich…I noodled over “striking” it too, or “achieving” it and don’t like either. Seems it just happens. And such a funny word, especially when considering “work-life balance.” I like your celestial ruminations combined with the everyday, a real nice influence on my own writing…thank you, has been a real pleasure reading your work this year. To a drying of seeds, restoration, and coming candle light.

    Liked by 2 people

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