Towards the very end of Winter, the weather suddenly turns darker. The days have been getting longer, so by early March, there is a lot more daylight. The weather is slowly warming up. There may even be signs of the approaching Spring in birds returning or buds developing on trees. But suddenly a cloudy day no longer has a white or pale gray sky. The clouds are brooding, bruise-colored, dark. The clouds that pour over the mountains on those days are not fluffy and soft. They look dirty, like mop water. I call these dishwater days, the late Winter days when the season has lost all its icy sparkle and it looks as though all the grime and soot from the past three months is being washed away.

Because as thick as the cloud cover is, the clouds get blown away by strong winds, after they dump whatever sleety snow-rain mix they carry, and the whole next day feels fresh and clean. The wind is bracing, not brutal. It suddenly seems easy to think about new possibilities, new ideas. The wind blows through our hair, through our thoughts, sweeps detritus away like a broom.

There is a reason that “spring cleaning” is a time-honored tradition, and that both Lent and Passover traditions codify dietary restrictions that effect a type of cleansing. With the first hints of Spring in the air, we feel the longing to finally cast off the heavy clothes of Winter, we want to throw open the windows and scrub the house down, put coats and boots away for another year. We are waking up from the long slumber of Winter and we want to get cleaned up and get out into the world.

I've seen Equinoxes that were warm and sunny, cold and cloudy, and every combination in between. My favorite rituals for this time of year, the ones that inspire me with a sense of possibility, are the most practical, mundane ones: cleaning the house, especially re-homing magickal or ritual items, prepping garden beds for Ostara libations, brushing my hair outside on a windy day and releasing anything I need to let go of, in the last rush of Winter's winds.

Spring is moments away. After the harshness of this Winter, I am so eager to welcome Spring. I want to clear as big a space as possible for it, space to move and stretch and grow and discover its own infinite beauty.