Ne'er cast a cloot

The May Tree

Beltane, half way between the vernal equinox and the summer solstice, has come and gone.

Now sanitised into the May Bank Holiday, it was once the time when the cattle were led out to the summer pastures, passing between two fires in symbolic purification. Youngsters would leap over the fires in celebration of the start of the growing season, a time of fun and courting when maidens would wash their faces in the first dew and dream, that night, of their husband-to-be.

The may bush, the hawthorn, was central to the rituals, the flowers being used to decorate the doorways of houses.

This year, the may bushes have hardly started to blossom.

 Geans and Scrogs

The geans and the scrogs (bird cherry and crab apple for the Anglophones) are in bloom in the garden of the Priory ruins where the old symbols still manage to find a place in the imagery.

The Green Man

The Green Man peeps from the carvings and the hawthorn still holds pride of place.

The wind from the north has a touch of Arctic ice in its veils and the may flowers stay tightly closed except for a few on the sheltered south facing hedge.

The fleece jackets are still zipped up and the old adage holds true.

"Ne'er cast a cloot 'til the may is oot"

We will have to wait.