Sir Gawain

yesterday was the first day of spring.

usually its today, but this year it was yesterday. something about the mathematical imperfections of the earth's revolution around the sun, i don't really know, but voila -- spring comes a day early.

i was born the day after spring, so i suppose its appropriate that my Gram called me today to wish me a happy birthday. by the numbers, it doesn't come until tomorrow.

but then, i've always looked at the 21st as my honorary birthday anyway. it is the equinox, you know; the day the sun starts to his journey out of the ditches of the underworld to reclaim the sky. it is also the beginning of the Attic rites in ancient Greece, where they 'sacrifice' victims who are then brought back to life, symbols of the sun, of returned vitality. i was born on this day.

it is fitting that i just got over another throat infection; that the worst of winter should be bookended with my illnesses (and recoveries) as if to say "you made it, but don't forget how close you came..." winter, illness, death; white throat, white snow, white skin. all the while i have been wearing green, like a banner, to remind myself of spring and that yes, indeed, it is eventually coming; green for st. patrick's day, green for the equinox, green for my birthday.

i wear green; a green p-coat, a green bandana, a green fleece. it makes my eyes bloom, changes them from brown to hazel in the sun. i won green out of the hollow parts of the year, the parts that challenged me, that brought me down to die, i thought. i go out of the barrow of that year with my life, and a kink in my neck, wearing green like a garter.

out of the hollow, on a horse, and into the sun; it has come back to greet me, and i go to meet it.

a day early, the day before and the day after spring, my first day of the year, the first day of my life, of the rest of my life, and of every year; a day early, but the day after spring, thank you Gram;

happy birthday to me.