Not now, not then, but before and surely after -- in between, yes, we are in between.
The cycles of winter, summer, dark and light, bitter cold and life-giving warmth were profoundly important to the Celts. The lines which divide those seasons and phases are boundaries along which the Otherworld makes its camp.
These cycles give daily testimony to the turning of the wheel of time. Just as the morning of the year is found at Imbolg, so the year turns to dusk at the autumnal equinox.
As the clouds gather and the wind grows cooler, the autumnal equinox arrives with its point of balance. While balance may not seem an invitation to the Otherworld, it is the balance, the momentary cessation of the competition of moments, which allows the Other to blend softly with our world.
At the equinox we are not yet at Samhain and no longer at Lughnasadh. The harvest and our summer activites are winding down, but not yet completed. We have bid farewell to summer, but the sun's light has not yet faded. Such is the style of in between.
We have begun our life's work, but it is not finished. We are no longer children, but we are not old. We have been born, but we are not yet dead. All of life is the in between.
The space between where we've been and where we are going is the gift of time. In between, we and the Other exist together as one --if we only pause for a moment to savour it.
Night is falling on the year. The equniox grants us a moment of reverie, before we rush on to year's end at Samhain.