Showing posts with label May Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label May Day. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 29, 2026

May Day Musings



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A few days early, but here' we are on our way to May Day again! 

The older you get, the faster Time Flies! 

Long ago, my mother told me about the tradition of gathering flowers to bring indoors as a way to give thanks for the return of spring. Living in upstate NY at the time, spring -- and therefore flowers -- could be a bit iffy. I remember shivering in Sunday school in a summer dress when the weather turned feral and dropped a farewell load of snow on us once more, killing off the apple blossoms in our orchard with a horrible finality. 

During years when the weather cooperated and hung onto spring, it was fun to go out early before anyone else was up and gather daffodils, lilacs and apple blossom to make a bouquet. I remember having this somewhat conflated with Mother's Day, so I usually put the bouquet on the kitchen table with a handmade card.

As a Constant Reader, I soon learned that this tradition went far back into the mists of European history, and that Ostara was the spring goddess from whose name Easter was derived, along with her bird's eggs and rabbits. In the UK, of course, these are, more properly, the more graceful hare, a creature who sometimes nests in grass and leaves behind handy, ready made hollows which are later occupied by birds such as whippoorwills who raise their young on the ground.

It was fun, some twenty years back, to read "American Gods," and a little later, to see the series created from the book. This included a campy episode that included Ostara, these days manifesting as a southern belle, who piggy-backs her ancient earth resurrection onto the current fame of our much later Christian Jesus, who also resurrects around this time. Through the wonders of CG, her rabbits are everywhere, little spies, whispering secrets into her ears. My favorite part came when Ostara is provoked to anger, causing her to act out in the way our ancestors most feared, and blacken her lush surroundings with a shock and awe killing frost. 

Unsurprisingly, She isn't too happy with us this year--and why, when you look around at the weather data, should she be? Locally, we had several days of 70-80 degrees culminating in two that hit 90, which led to fruit trees blossoming, and my Chinese Chestnut to sprout a first flush of leaves. 

After we'd all gotten our shorts and tees out, Ostara did an about face. On two clear nights, she lobbed rockets loaded with frigid air, sending us into the low 20's, which froze everything that had just bloomed, including my tulips, solid. 

I foresee a poor apple harvest this year. I will continue to pray that my Chinese Chestnut can manage to set new leaves, because the original ones have withered. 

The book covers I've posted, all contain chapters whose events turn on May Eve and May Day, celebrations which came down the long years to the characters in these historical novels, and which have, in turn, been a source of pleasure to me.  

Happy Easter, Happy Spring, and Happy May Day--and St. Walpurgis Night too--if that's more your thing. 




~~Juliet Waldron

Thursday, April 29, 2021

Walpurgis Nacht

 



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Walpurgisnacht is said to be named after an early Christian woman (Saint Walpurga, 710-779) who was missionary to the Black Forest German pagans. Like most saint's stories, I take it with a grain of salt. 

More likely, Walpurga was a wise women or, perhaps even a female divinity of place. If you can't at first get rid of those old gods and their generosity with a good time, the early Christians soon found that these local holidays were easily co-opted. Taking over a night of bonfire and dancing is not too hard, but you have to discourage (first with threats and then by fire) the far older fertility rites of liberated sex in the woods. (Imagine! Women running wild!) Among the English, you'll family names of Robinson or Green or Grove are common, and are often said to have had their origins in babies born after a spring fling in the forest. 

This is one of the stories within Roan Rose, whose heroine is born into the just such a peasant community.


For humble farm folk, the older traditions often quietly continued. After all, the New Religion allows you to repent whatever indiscretions you've committed during the night at the next morning's Saint's Day Mass! Alcohol, a good party and warm weather are stimulants to the young who, in all ages, are universally singing "Born to Wild" after any big celebration with the opposite sex present.

This Walpurgisnacht, or Hexennacht, ("witches night,") falls midway between the summer solstice and the equinox and were therefore once commonly named "Cross Quarter" Days. Like Samhain (Halloween/Hallow's Eve) May Eve is considered another "time between" when the "veil between the worlds" is thin. So, besides a party--if you were inclined to celebrate--you might have a picnic or leave food for the spirits of place, or "bring in the May" by decorating your home with flowers and greens just as my mother showed me long ago. These quieter alternatives to that blow-out bonfire are more in order where I live and to the state of my elder body. However, from sundown on April 30th until sunrise on May 1st, the old rule, bar the caveat "'an you harm none" was: Do what you will!  

While researching the habits of 18th Century Vienna, I learned that there, Saint Brigitte was the proper Lady to celebrate on May 1st. The similar name indicates that she may be a form of Brigid, the ancient Celtic triple goddess of artistic creation, rebirth and renewal. In my reading I learned that so many tried to leave the city for picnics and flower picking in the surrounding fields and woods on that day, that there were, by the late 1770's, traffic jams. Once, I read, the Emperor Joseph himself could not get out of town on one particularly carriage-clogged May Day because he did not drive out sufficiently early in the day.  

In My Mozart, the teen heroine has a name day on April 29th. She attends a fateful party in the Vienna Woods with the louche fellow players from her new workplace, a Volksoper, where she dreams of the blazing kiss of Orpheus.


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In Zauberkraft Black, the hero, a little drunk and sorry for himself, stumbles upon just such a party among his tenants the first night of his homecoming from the Napoleonic Wars. He finds a great deal more is going on there than simply drinking and getting lost in the new green woods with a willing farm girl.  How little, this gentleman will find, he has known his own peasants!

 

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It's probably pretty clear by now that I love this holiday and still keep it with flowers, new loaves of bread, and a of wine. On Saturday too I will pick up a few more native plants from a local Conservancy group--all very formal this year because of Covid--and bring them home to my yard. (Please grow, My New Darlings!)

  Welcoming spring and giving thanks for the seasons while whispering a few prayers for a bountiful harvest can't, at any time or place, be a bad thing. These days, Mother Earth is in need of all the good vibes we can send to her.


~~Juliet Waldron

Julietwaldron.com

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