Skimming winding river I am observed but not by human eyes.
Deer, owl and hare all know my ways, the night is ours.
Over hidden valley and bald mountain top I rise to settle on the tumbled cairn.
Below land stretches away in shades of darkness undisturbed.
A sigh, long and deep, escapes me.
Eyes close to invoke Samhain long past when the people knew and held us close.
Heart heavy with old memories, sorrow gnaws at my breasts and I nurse it.
Alone, unloved, forgotten in this modern world.
Bitter wind shakes me from the past.
Keen-eyed again, I stretch my sight to spy the distant horizon.
Far off, a shift, a smudge, disturbs my vision.
A wisp of smoke. A soar of sparks. Now a flare of yellow red.
Tlachta’s fire is kindled !
One by one other heights reply;
Teamhair, Cruacháin, Uisneach, Sliabh na Caillí, Cruachán Aigle and Binn Ghulbain.
Sliabh gCuillinn, Sliabh Dónairt, twin fires upon Dá Chích Anann.
Hill top beacons burst with fire.
In valleys tiny flames wake as dormant village cross-roads ignite.
A million flames, a rosary of fire across the land.
The old ways are remembered!
Three calls from sharp-mouthed Raven cleaves the silence, The Great Queen rises from her cave.
Beneath Brí Éile Brigid’s forge is lit anew as one by one, across the night, mounds open
and those who have never left return.
Here, upon the Height of Ireland, I stand tall again and at my side Manannán shares his secret smile with me.
The tide has turned.
Samhain greetings to you all!
This story was inspired by reading ‘The Lament of the Old Woman of Beare’, an Irish poem written in the 10th century,
which led me to wonder if The Cailleach lived amongst us and if so, what sort of neighbour would she be?
This virtual film relates a version of the poem translated by the Celtic language scholar Kuno Meyer.
In the ancient past the Samhain fire was ceremonially lit by the Druids on Tlachtga, the Hill of Ward in Co. Meath.
It is believed that answering fires were also lit on other prominent places across the landscape.
In more recent times the Tlachtga ceremony has been rekindled and this short film shows part
Lughnasa was often associated with great assemblies, bonfires on hilltops and dancing
at the cross roads but it was also a time when water possessed special qualities.
In rural Ireland the largest celebration of the year was at the start of the harvest season when the weather was warm and the first wild fruits were ripe.
People gathered to celebrate, often at the Fair, before the hard work of harvesting began.
The Christian festival, Lammas, was usually celebrated on the first Sunday of August and in Ireland
it was known by many names, reflecting the rich folk traditions.
On lakeshores, particularly in the midlands, people came together to celebrate ‘Lough Sunday’
which was usually held on the first Sunday of August.
Lough Owel, Co. Westmeath, famous for Lough Sunday gatherings.
The swimming of horses and cattle took place to ensure the health of the animals and it was also an opportunity for people to exchange news, settle marriage contracts, celebrate and to watch the
horse-swimming contests.
The most well-known contest was at Lough Owel where large crowds gathered as young men
on horseback engaged in dangerous water races.
At Lough Keeran, a small pool known locally as a blessed well, horses were brought to the water
to swim in order to protect them against ‘incidental evils’ in the coming months.
The tradition included submerging spancels and halters as an added safeguard although some were left in the well, perhaps as an offering.
Cattle too were brought to the water and offerings of butter, the Clad Ime, were thrown
to the lough spirits to guarantee a good milk yield.
A RAG TREE once stood near Lough Keeran, with the ropes used for tying cows hung on branches in the belief sick cattle would be cured. The tree was later cut down by the order of the Bishop to prevent people from continuing the custom.
As late as 1900’s offerings of butter rolls were still left at this well.
In the 19th century it was recorded that people swam their cattle across the River Boyne to act
as a charm against the attentions of the Good People and protect against disease.
This custom of driving horses and cattle through rivers, lakes and pools at Lughnasa appears to
mirror the custom of herding cattle between two fires at Bealtaine which was also executed to protect their well being.
Lough Neagh where the practice of wading through water was not confined to animals.
On the first Sunday of August pilgrims at Lough Neagh and Lough Patrick would recite the rosary then enter the waters to wash feet, hands and heads in the belief that the water at this time contained cures.
Many sacred wells were also considered most potent at this time of year.
St Moling’s Well, Co Carlow where pilgrims waded barefoot through the water
and children had their heads placed underwater to guard against head ailments.
At Tobar Alt an Easa cattle were driven to the water on the first Sunday of August
to cure them of illness.
Tubberberrin, in Co. Meath, was famous for being dry all year, but filling with water at midnight on Lughnasa Eve when it gave cures.
The water stayed in the well for three days before disappearing again.
The TRADITION at St Keiran’s Well took place at midnight on the first Sunday of August.
The first Sunday in August was known in many places as Garland Sunday when flowers were left on summits, on Neolithic monuments, on graves and at sacred wells “to give a last salute to summer.”
In Donegal people wore flowers in their clothes to climb hills on Garland Sunday and a hole was dug and the flowers buried as a sign that summer was ended.
Tobernault. Co. Sligo, was visited at this time also.
And Brigid’s Well at Liscannor is honoured by locals, not in February but on Garland Sunday.
In Co. Galway Lady’s Well was also visited on Garland Sunday when “the girls wore daisy chains and the young men wore flowers in their buttonholes.” to attend the Pattern there.
At the end of the ritual flowers were left in the water.
A visit to the well in recent times shows that the daisy tradition may not be lost.
It is at this time of year that I visit St Lugna’s Well, Co. Offaly, hidden besides the Slieve Bloom mountains.
The well was restored 1995 but little is known of the saint.
Few find their way here any longer but some of us still visit at Lughnasa to honour the water.
And as the wild flowers begin to pass away and the fruits appear I also give offerings to the
Tomorrow is Lá Fhéile Bríde, Brighid’s Day and tonight after sunset she will emerge to walk the land.
There are many folk traditions associated with Brighid’s Eve in Ireland which welcome her return, one such is the Brát Bhrid, a piece of cloth, put outside the home on 31st January, at sunset.
The Brát Bhrid was placed on a nearby bush, often a whitethorn,
on a window sill or tied to the handle of the front door.
It was believed that Brighid would touch the brát and bestow it with healing which remained in the cloth, becoming more potent over time.
Hands on the door of Saint Brigid's Parish Church, Kildare.
The brátis left over night and at sunrise the dew damp cloth was brought indoors and kept.
It was laid on people to heal various ailments, to cure infertility in women and ease childbirth. Wearing the Brát Bhrid also saved young children from abduction by the Good People.
The cloth was often of a specific colour; on the islands off Donegal,
in Mayo and on Inishmurray, Sligo it was red, in Tipperary, black & in other areas white.
The Brát usually consisted of a ribbon, a piece of linen or a garment.
According to author Fr Seán Ó Duinn Brighid is the only saint to return annually and her appearance on the eve of the fire festival, Imbolc, is one indication that her roots go back to the ancient goddess who is associated with healing, poetry and smith craft.
It is not only Brighid who returns tonight.
The Good People will also emerge from the hills as the gates to the Otherworld open.
A remnant of this belief was recorded in Donegal when a sheaf of corn and an oat cake were left outside on Brighid’s Eve to thank them for the harvest and to ensure good luck.
On the old date for Imbolc, 4th February this year, sunlight enters several Neolithic mounds
including the Mound of the Hostages at Tara above.
Celebrations at Imbolc, the first day of Spring and Lá Fhéile Bríde, traditionally take place around the home and unlike the other annual fire festivals there are no references to bonfires being lit on hill tops.
Perhaps it was too cold to venture forth?
Or perhaps the sacred fire was the goddess Brighid herself who dwelt in the Otherworld and would return annually to walk the land bestowing protection, fertility and health on people and animals.
In Christian iconography Brigid is often depicted with fire.
Here she stands with her soulmate, the young woman St. Darlughdacha.
Not too far from my home is Cruachán Bríg Eile, Croghan Hill in Co. Offaly.
Known as the most isolated hill in Ireland, Croghan stands like an island in the surrounding bog and according to John Feehan it can be seen from 12 counties.
The breast like Croghan Hill with its’ Neolithic passage grave on the summit
provides a panoramic view.
Excavations in the area have revealed the presence of iron ore, stone hearths,
The Hill itself is an extinct volcano and folklore explains that its’ fire can be reached by entering the burial mound.
Locally it is believed that St. Brighid was born near Croghan and that Brigit Begoibne, Brigid the Smith, has her workshop beneath the hill. It is here, using skill, strength and fire that she works metal to create her beautiful cauldrons.
The Holy Well on Croghan is now dedicated to St. Patrick but the fiery goddess Brighid
is still remembered with offerings of a Brigid’s Eye, red tinsel and yellow flowers.
As the sun sets this evening Brighid will emerge, flame bright, from the mound on Croghan Hill
to travel the dark landscape blessing her people.
This is the traditional Manx 'Invocation to Bridget' by Emma Christian.
Translation:
"Bridget, Bridget, come to my house,
come to my house tonight.
Open the door to Bridget,
and let Bridget come in.
Bridget, Bridget, come to my house,
come to my house tonight."
To read more about Brighid I thoroughly recommend
‘Brigid - Meeting the Celtic Goddess of Poetry, Forge and Healing Well’ by Morgan Daimler
