Morris

The Morris have been a feature of Beltane up on the Tor for years now, 30 I think. The Cam Valley Morris have performed their dances to the old ways every time I've been here for Beltane. Sometimes their number is supplemented by members of other Morris, this morning there were a couple of folk from the White Horse Morris. I noted one of them had 'Hong Kong' on their sash, and I had to ask why. It turned out that the dancer had live in Hong Kong for many years and had been in a local Morris, she described herself as White Horse and Hong Kong Morris 'British Chapter'. It transpires that morris dancing is very popular in Hong Kong with the the local populous. Crazy, ay? I found that funny and sad. Funny, that a people from so distant a culture could love something so earthy British, and sad, that we don't love our traditions more, on the whole we support the establishment traditions that bind us (house of lords, fox hunting, monarchy, elitism, class, that sort of thing), while we neglect the traditions that bound us, that joined us to each other, our communities, the seasons and the nature, real things. I've long believed that our national outcry and hand wringing with regards to 'others' destroying our culture, is merely projected guilt at how we've turned away and neglected our cultural and cultural heritage, and when we see other communities holding on to their traditions our guilt really tweaks us as envy bites. Tht said, there were three Morris up on the Tor this morning, Cam Valley, White Horse and (newly formed, I think) Glastonbury Morris, all served as fitting entertainment for the occasion, continued tradition, as did a dispersed community gathering to celebrate nature and her seasons. Hope?

Beltane

It must be 28 or 29 years since I first made my way to Glastonbury Tor to celebrate Beltane, since when it's become a regular pilgrimage; other than two years I missed, one when I was unwell and the other foot and mouth, when the majority of the country was off limits. You never know what the weather Gods have in store for you at Beltane, I think over the years we've stood up on the Tor in most weather conditions, some good, and some not so. This morning was one of the former, in fact it was one of the best, bloody marvellous, it was. As I climbed the Tor a full moon still hung in the clear sky, a good omen I thought. About a 150 people gathered on the Tor, all sorts of people, from all over the place, a mixed of languages and accents, all here to welcome in the sun. Rollo, arch-druid of the Glastonbury Order was here to celebrate 30 years of the order, and their first Beltane on the Tor. Rollo's ceremonies were the first druid gatherings we attended, they always had a certain character and never failed to raise a smile, so I have happy to be here to celebrate with them. As is the way, there was an explanation of the day, some um's and er's, ceremony, communal chanting, some more um's and er's (druids love a bit of confusion), there was a song, a call and response poem, a hand fasting and more than anything, smiles. Three cheers to Beltane and the sun broke cover, to the sound of whooping, horns, drums, and this morning a Scottish piper, magical, it was a most splendid sunrise. As the sun rose higher various Morris danced before the sun, while the Green Man pointed the way forward. Fantastic. Beltane Blessings y'all, may the seeds you sow find fertile ground.

Beltane

After a 2 hour drive in the rain, I sat in my car at the bottom of Glastonbury Tor. The rain was still running down the windscreen, it was 0450, and 50 minutes to sunrise. I first came to Glastonbury for Beltane sunrise in 1990 and have been coming every year since (except for the year foot and mouth closed the tor, and another year due to illness). It's become a tradition I hold dear. It's an occasion I usually end up attending alone, I have taken people before, and ask every year, though I think people are put off by the time and the prospect of an early morning climb, not to mention the frequent inclemency. The rain still ran down the windscreen as the clock struck 0500 and it was time to start making my way up the Tor. Miraculously as I left the car, the rain abated; over the years I've found it can often be the way. I like to see it as a sign. The rain may have faded, though the tor was still shrouded in damp mist. As I climbed, part of a long line of pilgrims snaking their way upwards, the ghostly form of the tower emerged. I got closer and could now smell incense wafting on the air, and hear drumming.  Inside the tower folk were crammed, noisily welcoming in the morning, the Green Man and the May Queen. It was getting brighter and the tor filled with more celebrants. Periodically the mist would clear to reveal the patchwork of fields and drains which make up the levels, then just as quickly as they appeared they were gone, and we were returned to standing on an island in a misty sea. Most people had gathered to the north of the tower, small groups doing their thing, others just watching the horizon to the east. The combined morris of Cam Valley and Mendip were preparing to do their thing; I've seen them perform every year and in every weather condition...they are hardcore! About the same time as their accordion breathed life into their dance, a group of women began to sing Deep into the Earth. ''Deep into the earth I go, deep into the earth I know, deep into the earth I go, deep into the earth I know, hold my hand sister hold my hand, hold my hand sister hold my hand,  hold my hand brother hold my hand, hold my hand brother hold my hand'', over and over. They began to form a circle and it soon incorporated more and more smiling people. A hand reached out for mine and I joined the now slowly moving line of people as they wove a labyrinth path around the hill top, still singing. I've been coming to these type of things for nearly 30 years, and still I find it hard to let go, I'm too inhibited, though today  my inhibitions were brought down, first meekly, then with more vigour I joined in the song. As the sky brightened and the clouds began to part, the tor was alive with music and activity, it was beautiful and I remembered (as I always do) why I drive through the night to an often windy hilltop for May morn.  The assembled cheered. Once freed there was no holding back the spring sun, who spread his light across our goddess the land, illuminating all.  One of Rollo's druids blew a horn, people whooped and cheered, smiling they stood transfixed on the sight before them.  The green's face says it all. What a wonderful morning. Beltane blessing to y'all, may the seeds of your dreams and desires fall on fertile ground.

Up on the Tor

As I drove through Glastonbury on my way to the base of the Tor this morning, I could see groups of people heading off to make the same climb I was about to. Traditionally I've parked at the base of the eastern side of the tor and scrambled up the steep side rather than take the longer, if less severe, path up the spine, today was to be no different. The hillside was damp and viscus, as well as being bloody steep, I passed the one remaining side of the tree that had split in half over 25 years ago, with the other falling year before last and began my scramble up the daunting slope.  I was out of breath as a reached the summit and heard the familiar voice of Rollo, Archdruid of the Glastonbury order of Druids who was to lead this mornings Beltaine ceremony. Rollo led the first Druid ceremonies I attended, and although not always thorough, and his rituals can be loose with bits often omitted, they are always done with honestly and with love.  Today the ritual was particularly loose, but with good reason, last year Donna (Rollos long time partner and an Archdruidess) died and this morning he was to spread some of her ashes. Rollo was clearly anxious. I first met Donna in the early 90's and regularly saw her at ceremonies, she was a lovely friendly person and I was saddened to hear of her passing. You'd be sure to see her atop Glastonbury Tor at Beltaine, so this mornings ceremony was particularly poignant.  

Dreow Archdruid of Avalon arrived to lend a hand, and after some initial banter between Rollo and Dreow, Dreow called for peace in the quarters, Rollo read some words, the acting Archdruidess of the order recited a poem Donna liked and her ashes were spread. It was a nice ceremony, moving, Rollo was clearly moved. Three cheers were given for Beltaine, and we waited for the guest of honour, the Sun. I know there'd been some antagonism between elements of Glastonbury Druidry in the past over titles and roles. I wasn't party to the details, other than what I'd heard bandied about, the gossip and what was written in the media, social and printed. But Dreows' support this morning was a nice gesture. Yeah, there was something there, but both men were true Druids, navigating and negotiating the situation with honour, using language and words with great skill. It was masterful druidry.  

Whilst the ceremony went on other groups and individual carried out their own observances, a group of women softy sang, three druids stood in meditation, a woman chanted, drummers drummed and guitarists strummed, dogs barked, incense wafted through the crowd and the Tor was alive with the sights, sounds and smells of interesting folk, many dressed flamboyantly for the occasion. A top morning, in good company and then the sun rose to the cheers of the assembled. 

With the ceremony over and the sun risen it was time for the Morris. The Cam Valley Morris have been performing on Glastonbury Tor at Beltaine since before I can remember, and I've been attending for 26 years! There was another Morris with them this morning whose name, regrettably,  I didn't catch. Both Morris put on a Stirling traditional performance only lightly clothed in what was the chilling cold, dancing the handed steps in patterns danced for centuries, waving their hankies and cracking their sticks. They danced for some time, in several formations, all to a fiddle and accordion. Beautiful, man. It's great to see traditional crafts practiced and brought to the public as they'd have been done more widely in the past, before we neglected and forgot our traditions. You'll have folk tell you ''it's Europes' fault or immigrants'', bollocks, we'd let our traditions fade and die long before Europe, and we've always had immigration. No, we blame others born out of our own guilt, it would be better if stopped and we learnt the old ways, what is lost could be found.  

And with Morris came the man of the moment, the green man.  What a great morning, a lovely ceremony, a beautiful sunrise and great entertainment. You couldn't wish for more. I wandered back down the hillside, past the egg stone and its accompanying brightly festooned Hawthorn trees, a big smile on my face. I enjoyed a Beltaine blessing, for sure.