Pink Passover Full Moon Easter
We had the most beautiful Full Moon this past week, which happened to be on the first day of Passover, also on Maundy Thursday of Holy Week, which is the Christian acknowledgement of the Passover Feast, or “Last Supper”.
I’d always known some of the names indigenous people have given the full moon; a time, in many thought-systems, of great power. This April moon is known as the “Pink Moon“, and when I looked it up, I found that “Pink Moon” is also the name of the last song and album by Nick Drake. I found, further, that this song was used in a rather nice Volkswagon commercial ad.
I wondered why the Pink Moon made me feel a bit melancholy. Drake’s song contributed to the mood. These religious feasts also coincide, roughly, with the Spring Equinox, and generally with celebrations of a time of rebirth or renewal; the dawning of the season’s fertility. The earth wakes up from her long winter sleep (in the Northern Hemisphere, anyway), seeds begin to stir beneath the soil. There is a sense of wonder regarding new life; new hope.
Usually in southern Arizona, we don’t have a “spring”, per se. We tend to have three seasons: Hot, Not-so-Hot, and Coolish. This year we do have a spring, the season that “comes in like a lion, and goes out like a lamb”. It’s the season that “breaks your heart”: just when the daffodils bloom, sometimes there’ll come a late snowstorm and the early daffodils wither and won’t be seen again for a year—those delicate blossoms of seasonal passage.
We don’t have daffodils in the desert, but when I lived in the mountains we did, and I would literally shed a tear if the late snows came and covered them too soon. In California, where I also lived, there was a large hill planted with the bulbs of spring. A wonderful woman had spent years planting this slope, on public land. She’d add a few bulbs each year as her energy and budget allowed. It was truly the most glorious sight, and again, marked the passage of seasons.
Perhaps I am a bit melancholy because it snowed on Saturday. While not unheard of, it’s most uncommon for snow to be seen in this desert land, this late in the season. I generally like to see the rare snow we have; but this one just seems wrong; out of place. I sense change in the wind; whether it be climate change; a change of heart; small change, or changing times.
By the way, I don’t mind a bit of melancholia. It brings perspective; balance. It causes reflection, reevaluation, contemplation. I’ve had quite a nice holiday week, as I hope you have, as well.