Tales of a wet spring from the south and west kept many eyes skyward in worrisome anticipation as the date for the great feast of Beltaine drew nearer, but our fears proved to be unfounded. The first day dawned sunny and fair as the wagons were prepared for the journey to our traditional festival site, a good omen and much appreciated after the recent soft days. The DagdaGuthrum arrived first with a train of kitchen and festival gear in tow, followed by Comyn and Sabha and they soon had their respective encampments established and appointed as befitting their respective stations. The Dagda was set in a place of honor, the Druidic chest repaired so that it could stand at the ready and incense was burned in hopes of good weather for the duration of our gathering.

Guthrum and Comyn arrived together early in the afternoon on Friday and entered the traditional site. The path had been strewn with wood shavings so that the cart wheels would not get stuck in the mud that inevitably formed in the ruts of that track after every rain. The two unloaded the wood and stacked it between the two large oaks that dominated the center of camp. "This is magical wood..." Comyn offered, "I planted these trees with my father many years ago and I've heard that Hawthorne is prized by the Druids". Guthrum seemed unconvinced and Comyn imagined he was thinking that the proof of that would be in the burning. The job was soon done and the wood covered against the anticipated rain and each then set about the construction of their respective tents and tables.

For several days the Druids sat in council, carefully reviewing the omens and portents both observed and carried by messengers riding the swiftest horses. The clouds hung heavy in the sky hiding the brilliance and warmth of the sun which would otherwise have dried the dirt paths and open gathering spaces. On the day of the festival our Chieftan rode forth to survey the ceremonial grounds alone. As he approached the grove he began to rue his decision to take the trip without escort for many hands would be needed should his chariot become stuck in the slippery track that led to his Clann's traditional site. Rain began to fall and it quickly became clear that the Druids' warnings should be heeded. Brogan managed to extricate himself from the slippery ooze that would be the Clann's main thoroughfare and sought higher ground.

Beltaine, 1998 News

From: Valerian May 11, 1998

Beltaine 1997 comments

From Rutager

[ed note: this is a post from May, but was entered as a book page directly. It has been moved to the forums (which is our current procedure) so that folks may comment. Corrections or additions to this Newsletter post are heartily encouraged]

Clan Tuatha de Bhriain

Bealtaine '00