You may have found, in your social media browsing, memes that suggest the Easter Rabbit has its historical precedent in Ostara, or Eostre, the Germanic goddess of dawn, the hare and fertility. Jacob Grimm searched for a possible link between Ostara and the Easter Rabbit and eggs, but all he found, beyond Bede’s passing mention in his 8th-century treatise, was conjecture. He couldn’t even find a primary source, or Norse parallels, that would suggest her existence.
Ostara may be a modern fabrication (based on a passing mention by a Northumbrian monk in 725), but the spring equinox is an astronomical event and its celebration has historical precedent. In the Northern Hemisphere, March 20 signals the end of winter and the beginning of spring. For one day, most places will see 12 hours of night and 12 hours of darkness. In Ancient Rome, Hilaria was celebrated on March 20, a festival to honour the goddess of Cybele, associated with fertility, wild animals, mountains and city walls. The Babylonian calendar began with the first new moon after the March equinox, while today the Persian, or Iranian, and Hindu calendar begin on March 21. That the new year should start when the world is reborn seems apter than our current date in midwinter.
By March 20, the world north of the equator is in bloom again. Fresh buds push through the skeletons of trees, soon to be resurrected. The humble primroses and hellebores grow in woodlands after the yellow daffodils and before the sea of bluebells, soon to come. Blossoms appear on trees like fairy lanterns, heralding the coming summer revelry before falling away, a preview of the perpetual cycle of life and death we are to witness. We know that in the coming months we will see a return of orchard fruits and berries and edible plants, hopefully in great abundance.
For many of us it’s a time to think about the year ahead, the summer, and the changes we want to make; it’s an opportunity to do a spot of ‘spring cleaning’, both physically and metaphorically. The first paragraph of a classic of Children’s Literature, The Wind in the Willows, describes it well:
‘The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing.’
But what is this divine content in rebirth? The world is waking up, but for some, it must be said, spring brings on an intense depression seldom spoken about. Seasonal affective disorder is associated with a lack of sunlight, and a resulting Vitamin D deficiency, but as Harvard psychiatrist John Sharp emphasises, reverse sad is also a big problem. While the whole world, it seems, ventures out into the sunlight, those of us suffering from depression can feel left behind. The increased struggle is clear in national suicide rates, which in the UK are highest in spring, peaking in April and May.
It’s not always easy to leave behind the nests we have made for ourselves. To feel the return of feelings we thought we’d left behind in previous seasons. To remember the need to go out and gather and socialise and look after ourselves. If we find this time of year difficult, let us bask in the knowledge that all this is transient, including these negative feelings, like spring blossoms. Both will come and go like the ebb and flow of the tide. When we have dressed and had our morning coffee and stepped out into the world, hopefully we too, at some point soon, will feel great joy at our ability to participate in this complex web of life.
For all of us, together, it is a time to check up on ourselves, our loved ones, and our communities. To re-connect. To acknowledge our feelings. To set intentions for the year ahead. To welcome in the new dawn.
How to celebrate?
There are many different ways to celebrate the Spring Equinox. We doubt Ronald Hutton would raise a finger at Neo-Pagan communities who enjoy worshipping Ostara, the Germanic goddess who perhaps never was, but today exists for many who have embellished her and worship her around this time.
There’s Hilaria. There’s Iranian Nowruz, which translates literally as ‘New Day’. In India, there is Holi, the festival known for its many colours, Drawing from Hindu mythology, Holi values the return of light, and the triumph of good over evil. In Japan, Shunbun no Hi is a time for celebrating the end of a long winter. Many visit the graves of loved ones and leave offerings of food or drink around this time. In Mexico, pre-Christian traditions are revisited at Equinoxes; in March, thousands gather at Mayan archeological site Chichen Itza to witness a slithering snake-like shadow which appears briefly on the Kulkulkan pyramid.
The folklore and traditions change, but the astronomical phenomena of equinox continues to recur year after year. Rebirth is in full swing. Celebrate as you wish to. You could wander the fields in search of spring herbs. Spend time outside. Plant seeds. Eat chocolate eggs, as is commonly practised in the West. Write a journal. Practise gratitude. You may well spend some time with loved ones, or in solitude reflecting on the years that have passed, and set intentions for the coming year.