Vernal Equi-not

The vernal equinox traditionally marks the first day of spring. Astronomically speaking, the vernal equinox is the occasion of the sun's passing from south to north over the celestial equator.^* Conversely, the autumnal equinox occurs when the sun passes back over the celestial equator from north to south. In theory, on the equinoctes there should be an equal number of hours of light and darkness (hence the term equinox), but because of factors such as the refractive properties of the earth's atmosphere, the light hours slightly outnumber their sable brethren. All of this, plus the changing of the season, are made possible by the little 23.4° angle between the Earth's axis and the plane in which it travels as it orbits the sun—are your 5^th grade science classes coming back to you now?

Anyway, on Sunday we went out to dinner with our new friends, S__ and L__. S__ teaches at another high school here, and L__…I'm not really sure what she does, but I know she wrote a book about her life here, and how she met S__. During our moderately delicious dinner (that involved no cognizantly consumed alcohol on my part), S__ told me that it was the first day of spring. Being a hopelessly gullible Westerner who automatically assumes the superior knowledge of all Chinese when it comes to things that have the slightest hint of orientalism, I thought "the first day of spring" fell into this category, along with the date of the nearest full moon, how to use an abacus, and which pressure points need to be tapped in a pre-arranged order to induce temporary paralysis. My suspicions were raised because I was certain that Chinese New Year (which marks the coming of spring, and whose name literally means "Spring Festival") would not be celebrated for another two weeks, but I thought maybe S__ was referring to the first day of the spring as celebrated in the West.

S__ and L__ live on the top floor of their building, which means they have private access to the roof, which is home not only to the legion of orchids that S__ raises, but also a makeshift pond of fish that L__ promised we could barbecue on our next visit. The weather that night was unbelievably warm and the night sky was absolutely beautiful. I could spend three or four paragraphs describing the firmament to you, telling you just how completely it conformed to some archetype of what the perfect sky should be, but you would accuse me of exaggerating—which I would not be—and then all my work would have been for naught.

Up on their roof, with the panorama of the town below us, and the sky—the blackness of which made the starry host appear to incandesce even more brightly—above. A warm wind on our faces. That special, citrusy tang of pomelo wedges sweetening our tongues. On a night like this, how could one not believe that it was the first night of a spring that was going to be just as warm and as beautiful and as sweet as this auspicious inaugural evening? If one had even the slightest inclination toward the sanguine, on such as night as this he would find every reason to expect that each subsequent evening would only increase in loveliness, then unfold gently into the soft glow of a welcoming dawn, and give rise to a day whose sunlight would cure depression, hunger, and homelessness, and bring about an everlasting world peace.

On a night like that, how could one not believe it was the first night of spring. So, of course, it was to my utter disappointment that I returned home, googled "first day spring 2007," only to find that this year the vernal equinox falls on March 21. Not only this, but because it hangs out around March 20 and 21 each year, it has never fallen in the month of February. [I am told that for the rest of this century, the vernal equinox will never be later than March 20 in Asia or the Americas, so this year was very special indeed.] I guess after such a great night I really can't complain about something so silly as the sun not having crossed the celestial equator on a particular day…but still, isn't that half the point of my story—the whole fairytale-like quality of spring's starting off with such a spectacular bang?

I'm weighing this whole thing in my mind, and I'm still a little ambivalent. It would have made for such a great story. On the other hand, it may have been so so coincidental as to strain credibility. (While we're on the topic, I should note that S__'s credibility has been severely damaged by this little misunderstanding. Having all my hopes and beliefs so firmly centered on what turned out to be a mistruth was devastating in a way that I hope none of my readers ever have to experience.) I'll let the glass be half full on this occasion, and say it was a blessing to have experienced a very memorable evening, vernal equinox or equi-not.

[Pictured above: Danny, S__, L__, and me]

Update: And speaking of things that are not, or things about which I am confused in general, when I first began this post, I was under the impression the S__ and L__ were dating. Then someone told me they were married. Danny and I recently had the great pleasure of dining with them again, and asked where they got married (since L__'s family is from another province, but S__ is local). L__ said they "didn't have a wedding." The language hurdle (not a complete barrier per se, but obstructive enough to dissuade me from trying to clarify things) prevented me from asking if they just didn't have a wedding ceremony, or if they aren't legally married and are commonlaw spouses. (Can they be considered commonlaw when this arrangement probably isn't really "common-law" here in China?)

Further note: I heard S__ and L__'s courtship story; it really is the stuff of which movies and fiction are crafted, so it's no wonder she was able to turn it into a book. L__ read a poem that S__ had published in a magazine, from which she obtained his mailing address. Being so enrapt by his composition, she wrote him a letter, and began a missive-courtship that culminated in their meeting and eventually getting married (?) but definitely not having a wedding. Anyway, they have been a very charming, happy, and entirely affable couple ever since.

Last note: You would never guess it from the picture, but S__ is almost 40! The grin you see splashed across his face is visible about 50% of the time, especially when he is speaking English. The broad grin and excited giggle that accompany these attempts reveal that he either is a little embarrassed about his English, or thinks he's really funny in a foreign language (which he is), or both. S__ also manages to hide is age because he is so boyishly mischievous, doing things like filling L__'s teacup to the brim, waiting for her to realize it, then leaning over to slurp the tea and bring its surface to a manageable level.

*From the perspective of my readers in the Southern hemisphere—all three of them—the vernal (or "spring") equinox actually occurs when the sun moves from south to north, but I believe that by convention the equinoctes are always assigned according to the Northern perspective. Don't blame me. I don't make these rules; I just perpetuate them. If English or Latin had arisen in the South, things might be alot different. Or they might be exactly the same as they are now, except that we'd switch designations for the vernal and autumnal equinoctes.