As I write this essay, the sun has just made its annual transit from Aquarius to Pisces, marking the start of peak Tara time. 

I adore Pisces → Aries season. This corner of the year may not be as resplendent as May, as bittersweet as October, or as festive as December, but I do feel it best embodies what I call “big Thursday energy.” I’ve always loved Thursdays because I relish the anticipation of weekend pleasure at least as much as the weekend itself. As we near winter’s end, anticipation in material form looks like dense, tiny tree buds that grow a bit fatter and fuzzier every day. Or it might be a random tuft of green stems bursting from a flattened pile of dead leaves. It’s also the post-6pm sunset that bathes my evening commute in twilight, reminding me there’ll soon be post-7pm sunsets after we move the clocks forward in a few weeks. I know that by the time the sun rolls into Taurus in late April, every living tree will be awash in blossoms or baby leaves. The pregnant earth will have delivered its infants, and I will have celebrated another birthday.

As it happens, I’ve got a lot of these two consecutive signs in my astrological chart – my sun and Venus are in Aries, while my moon, Mars, and rising signs are all Pisces. It makes sense. I’m a cross between a baby and a thousand year old soul. I embrace and act upon snap decisions that are secretly based on months or years of subconscious contemplation. My natural enthusiasm lands me in leadership positions I must eventually vacate so I can spend more time pondering the human condition. I’m very energetic until I’m not, at which point it’s time for me to stand alone, either in a hot shower or somewhere near a creek, listening to water flow over rocks. I’m the melancholy of late winter and the jubilance of early spring, all wrapped up in one.

This is the time of year I feel most alive. These two months aren’t easy per se, especially when a late winter frost halts a string of warm days or a frigid April rain tears blossoms from branches. This is not the euphoria one feels on that first warm June night when fireflies make their big debut; that’s what’s known as “big Friday energy”. What I’m celebrating right now is the raw power that fuels transformation and rebirth. My favorite day of the year is the northern hemisphere’s vernal equinox, which kicks off Aries season AND six months of light trumping darkness every day. No matter what the weather is – even if you get hit with a freak blizzard on the 20th of March – you can rest assured that going forward, the days will be longer than the nights. There’s so much hope in that knowledge, so much to look forward to – from dogwood blossoms to baseball games to tree-shaded walks on warm afternoons. Eventually the air will turn very hot and sticky, and at some point I’ll start to crave autumn’s cool, dark decay. But here at this moment, as we approach the start of a much greener season, I’m so grateful to inhabit this battered, beautiful planet for one more cycle of growth.