There’s something about spring that feels almost emotional by the time it finally arrives.

Not because Britain suddenly turns into some Mediterranean paradise overnight. Let’s not get carried away. Half the time Ostara arrives with sideways rain and a garden that still looks vaguely traumatised from winter.

But even then, you start noticing little things.

Birds kicking off outside the window before you’re mentally prepared to be conscious.
Longer evenings.
Tiny flowers appearing out of absolutely nowhere.
That first proper warm bit of sunlight hitting your face while you stand outside holding a mug of tea like you’ve personally survived the apocalypse.

That feeling right there?
That’s the heart of Ostara.

And sitting quietly underneath a lot of those old spring traditions is the goddess Eostre.

So… who actually is Eostre?

Honestly, this is where things get a bit muddy historically, which is very on-brand for ancient pagan history really.

Eostre is generally understood as a goddess associated with:

• spring
• dawn
• fertility
• renewal
• growth
• and the returning light

Her name is thought to connect to old words linked to dawn or the east, which makes sense because her whole energy feels like:

the world slowly brightening again.

Not blazing summer sunlight.
Just that first gentle return of warmth and life after winter.

And honestly, I think that’s why so many witches still connect with her now, even centuries later.

Because spring genuinely does feel magical after winter.

Especially after a rough one.

Ostara feels different to the other Sabbats somehow

Imbolc still has winter hanging around in the background.

Beltane is loud and fiery and chaotic.

But Ostara sits right in the middle of the shift.

It’s balanced.

That’s literally what the Spring Equinox is really. Equal light and dark. The tipping point where daylight finally starts overtaking the heavier half of the year.

And honestly, after months of grey skies and darkness at 4pm, that balance can feel weirdly emotional.

Like your nervous system’s finally unclenching slightly.

Very:

“Oh. I remember what serotonin feels like.”

energy.

If you’re newer to all this seasonal witchcraft stuff, my beginner Ostara guide on how to celebrate Ostara goes much deeper into the wider Ostara traditions and Spring Equinox rituals connected to the Sabbat itself.

The hare thing actually makes sense when you think about it

One of the strongest symbols tied to Eostre is the hare.

And honestly?
Hares already feel deeply suspicious and magical before mythology even gets involved.

Have you ever actually watched one properly?

They look like they know secrets.

Absolute unhinged little forest cryptids.

Traditionally though, hares symbolised:

• fertility
• abundance
• vitality
• instinct
• rapid growth
• wild spring energy

Which makes complete sense for Ostara celebrations because spring itself feels slightly feral after winter.

Everything suddenly starts growing, moving, reproducing and waking back up all at once.

Very chaotic.
Very alive.

And because hares breed quickly, they became natural symbols of fertility and abundance in all sorts of old folklore.

Plus they’ve long been associated with:

• witches
• moon magic
• intuition
• liminal spaces

So honestly they fit perfectly into Spring Equinox witchcraft.

And then there’s the eggs

You cannot talk about Eostre and Ostara without mentioning eggs.

Which, to be fair, are objectively a bit magical when you think about them too hard.

Tiny little containers of life and possibility just casually existing.

No wonder they became symbols of:

• fertility
• creation
• rebirth
• transformation
• new beginnings

And honestly, they fit Ostara spiritual meaning perfectly.

Spring itself feels like potential.

Nothing’s fully bloomed yet.
The gardens are still half mud.
The weather’s still unstable enough to emotionally gaslight you.

But underneath all of that, life is returning.

That’s what eggs symbolise.

Possibility waiting to happen.

Modern Ostara doesn’t need to look “perfect”

Honestly, I think this matters.

Somewhere along the line social media convinced people seasonal spirituality has to involve:

• handcrafted artisanal altar cloths
• £300 crystal collections
• twelve perfectly styled candles
• and a house that looks like a woodland cottage owned by an immortal forest witch

But real folk magic was never like that.

Most old seasonal traditions were practical.

People worked with:

• what they had
• what was growing nearby
• what the season was doing

That’s why simple Ostara rituals still work beautifully now.

Things like:

• planting seeds
• decorating eggs
• spring cleaning
• lighting candles
• baking seasonal food
• opening windows
• going outside and actually noticing the earth waking back up again

That all counts.

Honestly, I think some of the strongest Ostara seasonal magic happens through ordinary little acts done intentionally.

Eostre feels very… hopeful

I think that’s the thing I like most about her energy really.

Not toxic positivity.
Not forced happiness.
Not:

“Good vibes only.”

God no.

More:

“Things can begin again.”

And after difficult winters, emotionally or otherwise, that feeling can be incredibly powerful.

Because spring doesn’t arrive perfectly either.

It arrives muddy.
Uneven.
Half-awake.
Chaotic.

Yet growth still happens.

Very comforting honestly.

You can honour Eostre very simply

You do not need elaborate ceremonies.

You might:

• light a candle at sunrise
• plant herbs
• decorate eggs
• spend time outside
• make a spring altar
• bake something seasonal
• leave flowers on your altar
• sit in the garden with a cup of tea and actually notice the changing season

That’s enough.

Truly.

If altar work especially speaks to you, my Ostara altar guide explores seasonal altar ideas tied to Ostara balance rituals and spring symbolism much more deeply.

And if you enjoy practical seasonal magic, my Ostara seed ritual post fits beautifully alongside this softer mythology side of the Sabbat too.

Honestly, I think spring hits harder as you get older

When you’re younger, spring just feels normal.

When you’re older, especially after difficult years or difficult winters, it feels relieving.

You start understanding why ancient people celebrated the return of light so intensely.

Because darkness affects people.
Winter affects people.
Long hard seasons affect people.

And Ostara reminds us:

• growth returns
• warmth returns
• hope returns
• life returns

Not instantly.
Not perfectly.

But steadily.

Like crocuses forcing themselves through frozen soil because the season is changing whether winter likes it or not.

Final Thoughts

The mythology of Eostre is really just another way of telling the same ancient truth humans have always known:

Spring matters.

The return of light matters.
Hope matters.
Beginnings matter.

And honestly, after a long winter, sometimes simply noticing the earth waking back up again feels magical enough on its own.

So whether you celebrate Ostara with rituals, gardening, candles, egg decorating or simply standing outside in the first warm sunlight of the year looking mildly emotional with a brew in your hand, you are still connecting with the spirit of the season.

And I think that’s lovely, honestly.