Category Archives: May Day

Welcome May

April draws to a close, and as it does, we welcome May. This is the whole premise behind this evening’s celebration: it is Walpurgis Night, the Eve of May. If we have it in us to follow the old ways, we mark this evening with an outdoor fire. In Sweden, they’ll be enjoying sparkling wine and gravlax, too, and here, we’ve got all those things at the ready: the sparkling wine and the gravlax are in the fridge; the copper fire bowl out back is empty and waiting for a stack of wood. There are places where folks stay out all night tonight, so as to properly bring in the May in the morning. The celebration is an old one, and an important one, for we find ourselves now at one of the year’s junctures––the cross quarter day halfway between spring equinox and summer solstice. By traditional reckoning of time, we reach now the very start of summer.

And where Hallowe’en last October brought us the next day to November, Walpurgis Night––named for St. Walpurga, whose feast day comes tomorrow––brings us to the opposite spoke of the wheel of the year. Six months ago we began our descent down, into the earth. That juncture in late October in the Celtic tradition is known as Samhain (pronounced sah-win), the cross quarter day that marks the descent into winter, and the time of year when growth occurs below ground, in roots. But now we come to Beltane (pronounced bowl-tan-a), a time of emergence, the ascent into summer. Growth is more apparent, for it is visible and happening all around us in every budding tree and blooming flower and growing blade of grass.

It was a few years ago on Walpurgis Night that Convivio Book of Days reader (and fellow letterpress printer) Leonard Seastone gave us a pointer in the blog comments about a good song for this night. It’s a traditional Swedish song called “Maj vare välkommen” (May Be Welcome), and that song will be part of our quiet celebration tonight, too, even if it’s just playing in my head. Leonard signed off on that Walpurgis Night using his proper Swedish name––Lennart Einar Sjösten––so he seems to me a good authority on these matters. I hope he’ll be celebrating tonight as Seth and I will be, and I hope you will, too, in some way, grand or small.

I’ll be back tomorrow with your Convivio Book of Days calendar for May. For tonight, though, we wish you a good and warm Walpurgis Night. Welcome May!

Image: Valborgsmässoeld i Boden (Walpurgis Night in Boden [Sweden]) by M. Thorgren. Photograph, 2015 [Creative Commons via Wikimedia Commons].

 

Spring into Summer

April is ending, May beginning, and we reach the opposite spoke of the year that we were at last fall when October was ending. We step lightly into summer with the start of May, not by the almanac, but by traditional reckoning of time.

The Celts called this time Beltane (pronounced bowl-tan-a). Nowadays, this night is known best as May Eve and Walpurgis Night, named for St. Walpurga. In Germany, it is Walpurgisnacht, famed for being a night when witches gather. Gathering, however, is not in the cards this Walpurgis Night for anyone, save perhaps the occasional mob protesting social distancing and the temporary closure of hair salons. They can do what they want (and they will, with little regard for others), but for the more logical amongst you, may I suggest marking this night of transition simply, peacefully, at home, and with great respect for each other and the planet. It is a night of higher vibration, after all, for with it, we reach the halfway point between spring equinox and summer solstice. So why not distill the essence of the traditional celebrations and welcome them into our homes?

So. Here are my suggestions: First, it is traditionally a night to spend outdoors. May I suggest the backyard? Bonfires are traditional, so maybe light a candle, taking the best care with it, of course. In Scandinavia sparkling wine is traditional, as is gravlax, a smoked cured salmon. We happen to have the sparkling wine and the smoked salmon on hand. Perhaps your pantry holds some, as well. And if not, well, hopefully there is something celebratory to be found there.

These are days, for sure, where we do the best we can. There is nothing at all wrong with that. Traditions are wonderful, but what counts most is what’s in the heart. If social distancing means you are celebrating alone tonight, know that we are celebrating with you. Stare up at the moon, stare up at the stars; we’re looking at them, too.

Image: The Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh. Oil on canvas, 1889. [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.

 

As a Vapour, or a Drop of Raine

Tonight, this last of April, brings a welcome to summer. The setting sun will bring us Walpurgis Night, the Eve of St. Walpurga’s Day. These are obscure celebrations in the States, as is May Day, but the common thread tonight and tomorrow is that we are springing now into summer. Life is exploding everywhere around us as trees leaf out and bloom and as bulbs beneath the earth erupt into flowers that carpet the ground. In the Northern Hemisphere, we approach the gentle time of year.

What’s traditional to this night? Bonfires (translated easily to a backyard fire or an illuminated candle), and gravlax (a delicious cured smoked salmon from Scandinavia) and sparkling wine enjoyed outdoors. Outdoors is key, and for many, Walpurgis Night, or May Eve, is a night to spend entirely outdoors, gathering blossoms and greenery with which to decorate our homes tomorrow on May Day. It’s another of the holidays that the Puritans really disliked, for who knew what mischief folks would get to out in the woods alone at night? One result of this Puritanical distrust is that maypoles and May Day celebrations never took root here in this country quite to the extent that they had in Europe, much to our loss as a nation, and these traditions were tough to recover even in England, where the Puritans were in power from 1649 to 1660. During their reign, May Day was banned (along with maypoles and even Christmas). The most joyous place for a May Day celebration would seem to be Scandinavia, where winter’s darkness is most severe, and where one can imagine a day to welcome summer would be heartily received.

For the Celts, this is the entry into Beltane (pronounced bowl-tan-a). It is the cross-quarter day opposite Samhain, which comes at Halloween and All Souls Day. Being the opposite spoke in the wheel of the year, our perspective is opposite, as well: While at Samhain we were gathering in and shifting sights inward, now we are emerging and shifting sights outward. It is the time of growth and openness, a rebirth into the world: bursting forth, bursting forth. Rivers running, leaves and flowers exploding onto the scene, filling spaces in the sky and the landscape that were not long ago stark with winter’s emptiness.

A fire, a candle, gravlax, and sparkling wine. If you’ve none of these things with which to celebrate––or if you have them all––here is a good thing for your celebration. It’s a poem by our Book of Days hero Robert Herrick. It’s from his book Hesperides, first published in 1648, as the Puritans were rising to power in England. Read it silently to yourself, read it aloud to yourself, read it to someone you love. It is one of my favorite poems, a thing of beauty, a thing of this earth, and love, of course, calls us to the things of this earth.

 

CORINNA’S GOING A MAYING
by Robert Herrick

Get up, get up for shame, the Blooming Morne
Upon her wings presents the god unshorne.
                     See how Aurora throwes her faire
                     Fresh-quilted colours through the aire:
                     Get up, sweet-Slug-a-bed, and see
                     The Dew-bespangling Herbe and Tree.
Each Flower has wept, and bow’d toward the East,
Above an houre since; yet you not drest,
                     Nay! not so much as out of bed?
                     When all the Birds have Mattens seyd,
                     And sung their thankful Hymnes: ’tis sin,
                     Nay, profanation to keep in,
When as a thousand Virgins on this day,
Spring, sooner than the Lark, to fetch in May.

Rise; and put on your Foliage, and be seene
To come forth, like the Spring-time, fresh and greene;
                     And sweet as Flora. Take no care
                     For Jewels for your Gowne, or Haire:
                     Feare not; the leaves will strew
                     Gemms in abundance upon you:
Besides, the childhood of the Day has kept,
Against you come, some Orient Pearls unwept:
                     Come, and receive them while the light
                     Hangs on the Dew-locks of the night:
                     And Titan on the Eastern hill
                     Retires himselfe, or else stands still
Till you come forth. Wash, dresse, be briefe in praying:
Few Beads are best, when once we goe a Maying.

Come, my Corinna, come; and comming, marke
How each field turns a street; each street a Parke
                     Made green, and trimm’d with trees: see how
                     Devotion gives each House a Bough,
                     Or Branch: Each Porch, each doore, ere this,
                     An Arke a Tabernacle is
Made up of white-thorn neatly enterwove;
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
                     Can such delights be in the street,
                     And open fields, and we not see’t?
                     Come, we’ll abroad; and let’s obay
                     The Proclamation made for May:
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying;
But my Corinna, come, let’s goe a Maying.

There’s not a budding Boy, or Girle, this day,
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
                     A deale of Youth, ere this, is come
                     Back, and with White-thorn laden home.
                     Some have dispatcht their Cakes and Creame,
                     Before that we have left to dreame:
And some have wept, and woo’d, and plighted Troth,
And chose their Priest, ere we can cast off sloth:
                     Many a green-gown has been given;
                     Many a kisse, both odde and even:
                     Many a glance too has been sent
                     From out the eye, Loves Firmament:
Many a jest told of the Keyes betraying
This night, and Locks pickt, yet w’are not a Maying.

Come, let us goe, while we are in our prime;
And take the harmlesse follie of the time.
                     We shall grow old apace, and die
                     Before we know our liberty.
                     Our life is short; and our dayes run
                     As fast away as do’s the Sunne:
And as a vapour, or a drop of raine
Once lost, can ne’r be found againe:
                     So when or you or I are made
                     A fable, song, or fleeting shade;
                     All love, all liking, all delight
                     Lies drown’d with us in endlesse night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying;
Come, my Corinna, come, let’s goe a Maying.

 

Image: “The May Queen of New Westminster’s Annual May Day,” possibly by S.J. Thompson, British Columbia, Canada. Photograph, c.1887. The photograph comes with the following information: “The May Queen and her court. Girl at top left is Adelaide Ewen born in 1877. She was the daughter of Alexander and Mary Rogers Ewen. Isabel Macmillan Latta, the donor of the photo, was the daughter of Isabella Ewen whose sister is in this photo.” [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.

 

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