VĂ„rvinter and the magic of the pink moon đ©·
The waking of the earth in the Nordic countries is slow. And I'm learning to love that.
Happy Full Moon, lovely you.
Tonight the 4th full moon of 2024 rises in the sky. And there is vÄrvinter magic in the air. I am cozy on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, with the cat warming my feet, pondering a warm cup of tea and basking in the long, bright evenings of April.
Before I explain to you what vÄrvinter is, though, I want to pause and ponder the magic of the full pink moon illuminating our skies tonight.
The native peoples in North America named it a pink moon because of the pink moss phlox flowers that bloom and cover the ground during this time of year. As I looked deeper into where phlox grows in North American, I found that it is native to the mountains of my home state, North Carolina. And, now that I think about it, I remember loving these soft, pink and purple blooms carpeting the ground each spring. But, I never knew of their connection to the moon or the month of April. And, honestly, I havenât thought of them in forever. So, I am very happy to connect to their magic and meaning this spring.
In Sweden and the other Nordic countries, spring arrives very slowly. The arrival of the pink moon often coincides the arrival of the blooming season, as seen in the blossoming phlox flowers back in North Carolina. But, here, not so much - not quite yet.
While a few buds have appeared on shrubs, and the golden yellow forsythia has begun to bloom, I am still waiting for the greening of the earth and the trees here. But, the wait is soooo slow, my friend. And there are moments that I feel a great sense of impatience.
But, honestly, waiting and watching and hoping forces me to observe and notice everything. Every little change from day to day as I walk to work. Every little detail on the branches and the weeds in the cracks in the sidewalk. Every glorious sound of birdsong and the changing shadows as the mornings grow lighter every morning.
However, it is not just the late blossoming and budding that is the reason spring arrives so slowly. It is also the weather, the temperature, and the precipitation.
For the past week we have had accumulating snow, putting what felt like a complete and total halt on the coming of spring. The snow covered everything by day and then melted, only to fall again the next day. And the wind blew bitter and cold. It actually felt like the seasons were moving backwards.
And then, I remembered. VĂ„rvinter.
VĂ„rvinter (Swedish) translates to âspring winterâ. And it refers to the days that make up the transition period between the seasons winter and spring, usually March and April. It is actually considered a season in and of itself in Sweden. A bit like Late Summer - another magical, transitional season that runs through August and early September.
During vĂ„rvinter, the shifting of the seasons seems chaotic and never-ending. Itâs hard to know what to wear. I find myself praying to the earth and sun gods that I open my eyes one morning and everything will be green and warm and sunny. The waking of the earth in the Nordic countries is slow, for sure.
But, the sun⊠oh, the sun.
Ever since the spring equinox in March, the sun rules over us all. The ground still freezes, but the sunshine radiates a warmth that has not been felt since last August. Even the chilliest of days feels glorious in the sun. It is so bright and strong, the light is even sometimes a bit harsh, and often tough to adjust to after months of dark days and nights. But, who cares?! The warm suuuuuuuuun has returned.
And, the spring nights? Well, we are well on our way toward the midnight sun now. It is already still light out after 9 pm and the sun rises at 4:30 am. The days are crazy and wild and the seasons shift from morning to afternoon, but the nights are bright, no matter the weather.
The light has returned. VĂ„rvinter is here. And I am reminded, as I said before, to slow it down and to enjoy it all. Before we know it, it will all be over. By the time we blink, the trees will be green, the flowers will bloom, the land will be lush, and come June 20, everything will shift and we will be heading toward the darker months again. The moments are indeed fleeting. So, this season, I have really focused on being mindful as the seasons shift and change back and forth from day to day. I know, though, that soon the transition will be complete and summer will be on her way.
Right now, though, there is a quiet, magical anticipation. It is a moment of breathlessness. The Nordic land is about to burst forth with life and color and even more light. It will be overwhelming and beautiful and wondrous.
For today, however, I am seeking presence in the energy of vĂ„rvinter, for I do not want to miss itâs magic and the way it challenges me to find joy in all of the little things. The sun streaming onto my desk at work in the afternoons. Running my hands along the tiny buds on the bushes lining the sidewalk. The way the light greets me every morning on my balcony.
As this week unfolds, we will move out of the full pink moon energy and feel a sense of release after a cycle of fullness and completion and inspiration. Now, we turn toward a restful reset, which I think culminates not only with the next new moon, but also with the turning of the wheel of the seasons once again next week, as we enter May and cross over into very early summer energy. Soon, it is time to cross over another threshold celebrate some old, folk magic. But, more about that in my May letter and podcast next Wednesday.
I think I just want to sit in the quiet by myself for the rest of this evening. Sipping tea (I did get up and make some), moongazing out my window, journaling a little, and feeling that special light and life and hope that vÄrvinter brings.
Blessed full pink moon, my friend.
xoxo. liz.
Varvinter!!! The long bright days and frozen crystals must make an energy and serenity thatâs so uniquely Scandinavian. Iâm feeding my snow-hunger vicariously through you, Liz. We never get enough (any really) of it here in North Carolina. We have flower snow storms.đžđžđžđžđž
Oh. Such gorgeous stories, Liz.
One day I *will* travel to the Nordic lands (there aren't many places left that tempt me from home these days, but there? Yes).
The light has really opened up these past couple of weeks here too. The energy feels bright and buzzy. I long for sunshine but actually may be more of a winter baby than I realised!