Today is St Brigid's Day in Ireland and considered to be the first day of Spring....well maybe....
Since we were given a Bank holiday to celebrate (just last year), the country has risen to the occasion and festivals are sprouting up everywhere. Traditionally the only way I ever celebrated was to gather reeds and make Brigid's Crosses, see poems below.
The Cross is meant to protect against fire in the home and every year we burnt last year's cross and made a new one. We kept it simple.
But I learn now that in Kerry villages are awash with biddies wearing white outfits and sporting elaborate straw hats. They rove in droves from house to house singing and dancing into the wee small hours over a period of four nights. I had no idea that we were missing out....
See link below for information on Saint Brigid.
On Making a Brigid’s Cross
Its strength lies
in the fold.
You bend the rush
firm and hold, finger fasten to the centre, turn clockwise and return, again
and again.
It’s the last rush
that decides if your lattice will hold or fall apart or hang slack, woven
through with chinks of light.
At Imbolg
Stooped to the
rhythm of sickle
we gathered
rushes from the bog
or, with our
hands, pulled stems
that raised
wheals and reddened palms.
We lay them in
piles and folded
and turned and turned and folded
until we made a centre
that would hold.
Not knowing then
that she was daughter of Dagda
Celtic Goddess,
Crone turned Maiden each Spring
and that we were
cutting deeper than bog
i mbolg, at
imbolg.
Copyright Cathy Leonard 2016 All rights reserved
We could dress in white and pretend to be the old biddies! What would they make of us?
ReplyDeleteI think we might be locked up!!!
ReplyDelete