When
Wiebke said the deadline for submissions for the summer edition
of Inception was May 1st, a little bell rang in my head. May 1st
- Mayday. I knew exactly what I would be doing that day. It would
be an early start. I'd be down on the river embankment watching
Peterborough Morris dance in the dawn. It's a tradition, heralding
the arrival of summer and the beginning of the folk dancers summer
season. We all emerge from our winter hideouts where we've been
secretly practicing and spend the summer displaying our new dancing
skills to the public.
It's a time of year I love. In England the countryside comes
into life in a profusion of greenery. In our ancient woodlands
there are carpets of bluebells and everywhere the hawthorn erupts
in a champagne froth of white blossom. As if saying, "It's summer
- let's celebrate!" It makes an excellent wine too, hawthorn blossom
that is, and yes, I am bringing a bottle to Grissecon 1.
Of course May 1st is also Beltane. Possibly the second most important
Sabbat in the Witches' calender after Samhain (Halloween) and
certainly the most joyful. It is the festival of the fire God
Bel. Beltane literally means "bright fire." Bel has been worshipped
by many names all over the world for thousands of years: Bel,
Beli, Balar, Balor, Belenus, Baal and Belial. Traditionally fires
were lit on all the hilltops producing a chain of beacons that
ran across the land.
Beltane has always been associated with marriage. Not only the
symbolic marriage of God and Goddess but it is also commonly a
time for Witches to handfast -- a Wiccan form of wedding. Clearly
a major fertility festival, no symbol is more obviously sexual
than the tall Maypole. This is usually surmounted by a circlet
of flowers hung with colourful ribbons which dancers weave into
complex patterns.
So, I wonder, will I have all this in mind when I'm standing
beside a chilly River Nene at 5:30am on May 1st? Or will I be
fantasising about hot coffee and wondering what possessed me to
get out of my nice warm bed at such a ludicrous hour?
About the Author:
Maria Leel lives at Chateau Fengate in England with assorted cats, chickens
and husband. She makes a lot of wine, dabbles in complementary therapies and is
mum to the infamous Steffi the Goat. She has a degree in Ecology but neither she
or anyone else appears to be able to make any use of it, which can make her quite
cross. She can be reached at maria@leel2.freeserve.co.uk.
