“Mabon” is a modern name in common use for the autumn equinox; the practices are as old as harvest. Day and night balance again while orchards and cupboards feel heavy with the year’s work. This is the season of reciprocity—accounting done with love, gratitude poured back into the soil, and the honest pruning that makes next year possible.

Traditionally, communities tallied stores, settled obligations, and planned for winter. Harvest suppers were part party, part logistics meeting. Apples, jars, baskets, and labels are more than aesthetics; they’re symbols of foresight and care. Stories of descent and return hum underneath—the old mythic rhythm that helps us hold change.

In modern druidry I treat Mabon like a kind audit. Draw a line down a page—Given / Received—and list three things on each side. Adjust one lever kindly: time, money, attention, boundaries. Thank the people who helped your harvest (literal or metaphorical), and release one thing that no longer fits. Balance is an action, not a static ideal.

If you’re south of the equator, this balancing feast lands in March. Wherever you are, the question is simple and brave: what does right-sized look like for me, now?