“Palm Sunday, March 28 brings us the first full moon of the new spring season: the Paschal full moon. The official moment that the moon will turn full is 2:48 p.m. EDT (1848 GMT).
Traditional names for the full moons of the year are found in some publications such as The Farmers’ Almanac. We also published the full list of full moon names here on Space.com earlier this year. The origins of these names date back a few hundred years to Native American tribes, though they may also have evolved from old England or, as astronomy author Guy Ottewell, suggests, “writer’s fancy.”
The Paschal full moon of spring is also the mirror-image of the full Harvest Moon of autumn. What sets the Harvest Moon apart from the others is that instead of rising at its normal average of 50 minutes later each day, it seems to rise at nearly the same time for several nights.
In direct contrast to the Harvest Moon, the Paschal Full Moon appears to rise considerably later each night. Below we’ve provided some examples for ten North American cities.”
I want to share the Sabian Symbol for Sun entering Aries, and the start of Spring. Today is the real New Year – when the Sun moves to 0 degrees Aries. Here’s Dane Rudhyar‘s insight into what this day means! Happy Spring:
“PHASE 1 (ARIES 1°):A WOMAN JUST RISEN FROM THE SEA. A SEAL IS EMBRACING HER.
KEYNOTE:Emergence of new forms and of the potentiality of consciousness.
This is the first of the 360 phases of a universal and multilevel cyclic process which aims at the actualization of a particular set of potentialities. These potentialities, in the Sabian symbols, refer to the development of man’s individualized consciousness — the consciousness of being an individual person with a place and function (a “destiny”) in the planetary organism of the Earth, and in a particular type of human society and culture.
To be individually conscious means to emerge out of the sea of generic and collective consciousness — which to the emerged mind appears to be unconsciousness. Such an emergence is the primary event. It is the result of some basic action: a leaving behind, an emerging from a womb or matrix, here symbolized by the sea.
Such an action is not to be considered a powerful, positive statement of individual being. In the beginning is the Act; but it is often an imperceptible, insecure act. The small tender germ out of the seed does not loudly proclaim its existence. It has to pierce through the crust of the soil still covered with the remains of the past. It is all potentiality and a minimum of actual presence.
In the symbol, therefore, the emergent entity is a Woman; symbolically speaking, a form of existence still close to the unconscious depths of generic biological nature, filled with the desire to be rather than self-assertion. The woman is seen embraced by a seal because the seal is a mammal which once had experienced a biological, evolutionary but relatively unconscious emergence, yet which retraced its steps and “returned to the womb” of the sea. The seal, therefore, represents a regressive step. It embraces the Woman who has emerged, because every emergent process at first is susceptible to failure. This process is indeed surrounded by the memory, the ghosts of past failures during previous cycles. The impulse upward is held back by regressive fear or insecurity; the issue of the conflict depends on the relative strength of the future-ward and the past-ward forces.
The possibility of success and that of failure is implied throughout the entire process of actualization. Every release of potentiality contains this two-fold possibility. It inevitably opens up two paths: one leads to “perfection” in consciousness, the other to “disintegration” – the return to the undifferentiated state (the state of humus, manure, cosmic dust – i.e. to the symbolic “great Waters of space,” to chaos)
This symbol characterizes the first of five stages which are repeated at three levels. This stage represents the initial statement, or theme, of the five-fold series which refers to the first level: IMPULSE TO BE.”
“A Hag’s Guide to Spring Cleaning” by Alexis J. Cunningfolk
“Scrub your skin with the dirt from a hollow hill.
Brush your body with raven feathers and the blessings of a million hags gone before who have never given a shit about the what looks “nice” to others.
Take all the pots and pans out of your kitchen, clean them with black salt, and bring them outside with your spoons and knives. Make a racket to wake up the earth and let the neighbors know that their local hag has woken up from winter slumber.
Water your garden with the tears shed by those suffering from fragile masculinity to help them grow towards their heart instead of their fear.
Stitch up your worn out clothes with the red thread of intersectionality and luck.
Scare the life back into your heart by grinning so loudly in the mirror that you can see every tooth, fang, and monster song gurgling forth from the back of your throat.
Go to a crossroads, turn to the east, and spit three times so that you never forget how to find your way back.
Stain your lips and fingers with the blood of berries.
Braid thorns into your hair and rub rose dust into your eyebrows.
Never say you’re sorry for making it to another spring. Cackle instead and celebrate the ugly bits that have kept you alive.
Lace up your boots with the stories of your ancestors raging against powers they were told were unbreakable but have long turned to dust.
Greet your witchen kin with right hands grasped, left hand over the heart of the other, foreheads touching. Breath in, breath out. Say, “I fucking love you.”
Remember that hags like you grow like weeds and springtime will never be the same. “