Every September Equinox (9/23, 9/21, 9/22 in order the next few years), there is a celebration to celebrate the changing of the seasons. Summer into Autumn.
The name Mabon, a masculine name, comes from the name Mabon ap Modron, a Welsh mythological figure whose name means Son of the mother. Mabon was taken away from his mother and later on rescued, similar to the maiden goddess’s return from the underworld.
This is a celebration of harvest, balance, and preparation.
Celebrate in autumn colors! Red, orange and gold. (Deep Autumn colors. Hey, that’s my color zone.)
Feasts, altars, personal growth practices are all great ways to celebrate Mabon.
Published by kacynskitessa
Mabon and 104 I am the Mabon girl.
I was born on September 22, at the turning of summer into autumn. And every year on my birthday, my mother raced. Her racecar was pink. Her number was 104. She raced not only for the thrill of the track, but for breast cancer awareness—turning a racecar into a moving symbol of remembrance, strength, and hope. So while I was celebrating another year of my life, my mother was carrying a message around the racetrack. Pink against mud. 104 the car was painted. An engine roaring beneath the September sky. To me, those races, wearing hot pink; became part of what my birthday meant. Other people might remember birthdays through candles or balloons. I remember mine through the sound of racing. Through my mother. Through that pink car. Through 104. And through the strange beauty of being born at the beginning of autumn—the season of harvest, balance, transformation, and letting go. Mabon reminds us that life is made of cycles. The track taught me something similar. You don't stay in one place. You move through turns. You cross lines. You begin again. My mother raced for awareness, carrying something bigger than herself around the track. And I grew up carrying her story with me. Maybe that's why the image feels so powerful: A mother racing beneath her daughter's September birthday sky. A pink car representing awareness. The number 104 marking its place on the track. And a daughter watching, growing, changing, becoming. Every year, the girl became older. Every year, autumn returned. Every year, the wheels turned. And the story continued. I am the Mabon girl. My birthday is September 22. My mother raced. Her car was pink. Her number was 104. And somewhere between the harvest and the racetrack, I learned that life isn't about staying still. It's about knowing when to hold on— and knowing when to turn the wheel.
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