Beltane Light

Bluebells, birdsong and the Jack in the Green

Beltane blessings to all! I don’t know about you but I’ve been really feeling the shift in the light recently, nothing too dramatic, just enough to notice that nature seems to have moved on from the darker months at quite a pace.

So now, as the Wheel turns, I thought I’d write a little about one of my favourite festivals and the contrast in the ways I see it celebrated - in the gentle flow of nature and in the more energetic traditions here in my little old fishing town. The images I include are mainly from my archive in the days I used to photograph the festivities, along with some recent ones from Arlington’s ancient woodland…so be warned, there’s quite a change in mood!

Beltane has always been my favourite time of year. Bluebells, mayflower, the return of the cuckoo and, if I’m lucky, a nightingale somewhere nearby…it feels like Mother Nature opens the floodgates and releases the full force of Her creative power and abundance. This festival marks the turning of the Wheel to the lighter half of the year when, many years ago, fires were lit and people would walk between them with their livestock for protection and to bless their crops during the growing season. We don’t need the rituals to sense it though…it’s here in the landscape all around us.

There’s an abundance of bluebells in every wood I’ve visited and they peaked very early this year. I saw them at their best two weeks ago at Arlington - acres of ancient woodland, sensitively managed by a local farmer who’s raised over a million pounds for charity by opening them to the public. There was a haze of violet-blue throughout the woodland giving off that familiar heady scent, with wood anemones still scattered amongst them along with yellow archangels and wild garlic.

Bluebells have always felt magickal to me. I love the old names… lady’s nightcap, witches’ thimbles and cuckoo’s boots. And there’s the folklore - it was said they rang to summon fairies to a gathering, and that if a human heard them, it would be their death knell. It’s not surprising that it was considered unlucky to trample on a bed of bluebells, in case you angered the mythical folk resting there. Even now, walking through them on paths, I get the sense I’m stepping somewhere I shouldn’t disturb.

Another sound that for me heralds the building of the earth’s energy towards Beltane is the call of the cuckoo. I always listen out for them in April as they tend to return between the 15^th and the 23^rd and, right on cue, I heard my first cuckoo this year on the 18th. Not long before that, I’d heard a nightingale in the bramble and hawthorn scrub near the entrance to the Valley. Hearing both of these birds announce their arrival felt as if the Valley was settling into spring’s rhythm, now it’s just a case of staying awake long enough to hear the nightingale properly, to catch its full song once it gets dark.

The word cuckoo turns up everywhere at this time of year… cuckoo flower, cuckoo pint, cuckoo spit. It’s embedded in our Beltane folklore tradition, in particular the cuckoo pint - a woodland plant also known as ‘lords and ladies’, ‘stallions and mares’, ‘willy-lily’ and ‘jack in the pulpit’…plus many more colourful alternative names! It carries those older associations with fertility and Mayday traditions that encouraged lovers to go ‘A-Maying’ in the fields and woods and not return until the morning, to celebrate the fertility of the land at this time of year.

In Hastings town, that same fertile Beltane energy takes a much more visible and vibrant form. Every Mayday bank holiday weekend tens of thousands of visitors, boosted by thousands of bikers, arrive in our town to see or participate in the Jack in the Green celebrations. This pagan inspired festival is a living embodiment of May Day traditions and rituals, celebrating the peak of spring and the Wheel turning towards summer, where the central character of the Jack represents the spirit of the season…fertility, growth and the wild energy of nature.

It all starts at the fishing huts in the Old Town area where a ‘maiden’ is taken into one of the huts and becomes the Jack’s consort, eventually leading him out of the hut. The Jack is completely covered in leafy branches and flowers, often gathered in the days leading up to the event from local parks and woodland. He’s paraded through the streets by the maiden, who represents renewal and beauty, along with the Sweeps, who date back to 17^th century May Day traditions and who first created the Jack. Known for ‘mischief and bawdy humour’ they represent the playful, anarchic nature of the original festival.

Protecting the Jack and the spirit of spring all the way are the Bogies…twelve men who are his leaf covered, green guardians walking beside him, representing wild nature, forest spirits and the untamed energies of spring. Along with these main characters there are giants, lords and ladies, milkmaids, drummers, Morris dancers and many other figures from folklore such as Robin Hood.

The parade becomes a ritual in itself…carrying the energy of spring and blessing the town with it, as it weaves its way through the narrow streets. Bogies go into the crowds and daub green face paint on any onlookers who don’t look green enough, initiating them into the proceedings so that they become a part of wild nature too.

From Robin Hood to street entertainers

Following what can be quite a rowdy break for refreshment, the parade then meanders up the West Hill where after music and Morris dancing the Jack is then slain. It might sound quite brutal, yet his slaying isn’t a death, it represents a transformation, releasing the spirit of summer and ensuring abundance for the months ahead. It’s a ritual of renewal marking the moment that growth in nature is fully underway.

And I think that’s what I’m drawn to at this time of year, the way the celebration of Beltane exists in both forms. In the gentle, slow unfolding of the natural world and in the noise and colour of something pagan - more human, more expressive.

These days, I tend to keep my distance from the crowds, finding myself drawn more to the gentler side of the season…the woods, the birds, the small details that are easy to miss. They’re both very different on the surface, but are rooted in the same thing, that sense of life building and gathering pace as the light continues to grow.

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One benefit of not having a computer for 8 weeks has been that I’ve been catching up on a lot of things I’ve put off around the house, as well as taking the opportunity to visit exhibitions and catch up on films. One film I’ve been waiting for quite some time is ‘Underland’, a journey beneath the surface of the earth based on Robert MacFarlane’s book of the same name.

MacFarlane is one of my favourite nature writers, with such a poetic style I did wonder whether the film would be able to match his prose. We managed to catch it at a local art gallery cinema and I wasn’t disappointed, it was beautifully filmed and narrated and I can highly recommend it. I’ll leave you with a short description from the site:

“Beginning in the shallow soils beneath an old ash tree, the film follows several ‘astronauts of the underworld’ as they travel into ancient sacred caves, flooded storm drains, melting glaciers, underwater burial chambers and a deep underground laboratory built to solve the mysteries of the Universe.”

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I’ll leave it there for now. So until the next time, thank you for joining me on my Beltane wanderings, I truly appreciate the time you spend reading my posts and all the feedback and support you give me.

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