Celebrating Eostre

 

Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter

Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here

Here comes the sun

 Over the weekend it was with considerable pleasure that I watched the snow cover in full retreat from sidewalks and lawns in my Old Ottawa South neighbourhood as temperatures finally climbed north of zero for a prolonged spell.  It has been a long cold and not particularly easy winter, and walking across the campus you can feel the palpable sense of relief that it may finally be over.  Soon the earth will be blooming with new life, “breeding lilacs out of the dead land”.

It is of course no coincidence that many cultures find special significance in this time of year, often associated with the vernal equinox.  For Persians, March 21^st marks the New Year festival of Nowruz, an ancient celebration that pre-dates the arrival of Islam; and many medieval European cities also began their calendar years with the formal arrival of spring. Christians of course celebrate Easter – a festival focused entirely on the concepts of death and rebirth – on the first Sunday after the first full moon following the equinox, although few may know that the actual English word ‘Easter’ is derived from the name of the pagan Saxon goddess of the spring, Eostre.  And there is nothing specifically Christian about the cultural traditions of bunnies and eggs!  Many of our beliefs and rituals transcend specific religions, as was explored a century ago by writers such as James Frazer and Jessie Weston.  I can remember devouring the books of both those authors as a student.

But not all rituals are linked to religion.  For most faculty and students at Canadian universities, there is a close relationship between the onset of spring and the end of the academic year.  Depending on when exactly it falls, the long Easter weekend can often mark the end of classes – classes both given and taken – and a time to look ahead to what will come after: exams and then summer jobs for some, and an intense period of grading followed by prolonged and uninterrupted time for research for others.  As a young assistant professor it was always the moment when I began to plan for my annual trip to my “lab” in Rome.  A third of a century later, and now a jaded curmudgeon – sorry, I mean administrator – my thoughts are focused instead on the looming end of the fiscal year, and planning for the new one soon to commence.  But for almost everyone on campus there is something of a sense of closure, and of looking ahead to some sort of change of pace, if not a new beginning.  Another academic year is “in the bank”, so to speak.

At a personal level, I know that spring has come not only when I can trade in my boots for shoes for the walk to and from work, but also when it becomes more pleasant to walk than to take the bus … as I did with great pleasure this morning.

Here comes the sun, and I say

It’s all right