Celebrating Beltane
It’s dark; the sun just having set in a blaze of colour behind a bank of gathering cloud.I’m standing in the middle of a huge mass of people, surrounded by the quite murmur of excited conversation.
My feet are numb from the cold and I’m trying to stop my teeth from chattering.Like thousands of people I’ve gathered on the top of Calton Hill in Edinburgh for the annual Beltane Fire Festival.
This year it’s estimated that around 12,000 people will attend and as I stare around at the growing number of bystanders I can quite believe it.
There is an ever growing sense of anticipation; heightened by the number of strange and rather frightening figures that creep through the crowd, their faces painted a blood red, their bodies clad in black cloaks that sweep and rustle across the grass. They hiss at the crowd around them and whisper what sound like strange incantations as they disappear into the mass of bodies.
Suddenly a flame can be seen above the crowd, another one appears and another… until a line of torches flicker beneath the impressive columns of the Acropolis that stands at the very centre of the hill top. T
he sense of anticipation grows until it’s almost tangible and when the first torch is raised, setting alight one of the many pagan symbols raised high above the heads of the watching people; a spontaneous shout erupts from the crowd. The shout gathers momentum and sweeps across the thousands gathered here, growing in volume until it becomes a loud cry of appreciation.
The drums begin.
A steady beat that accompanies the bright progress of the flame as it engulfs the symbols high above the crowd. A chalice, an Ankh, ancient symbols burning brightly in the darkness. A procession begins to make its way through the crowd towards us. Flames flicker, highlighting painted masks and bright costumes.
The drums grow louder as the procession moves closer and I can see the crowd parting before them, moving aside to allow this amazing troupe to move freely through the thousands of eager faces.
The drums become a vibrating, booming rhythm that seems to fill my chest, and vibrate down my legs; it makes my feet want to dance and stamp, makes me want to shout and sing and cry all at the same time.
I can feel a primal joy growing within me and I’m transported to a time where people danced unabashedly and welcomed the coming of summer with flame, celebration and hope.
My feet are numb from the cold and I’m trying to stop my teeth from chattering.Like thousands of people I’ve gathered on the top of Calton Hill in Edinburgh for the annual Beltane Fire Festival.
This year it’s estimated that around 12,000 people will attend and as I stare around at the growing number of bystanders I can quite believe it.
There is an ever growing sense of anticipation; heightened by the number of strange and rather frightening figures that creep through the crowd, their faces painted a blood red, their bodies clad in black cloaks that sweep and rustle across the grass. They hiss at the crowd around them and whisper what sound like strange incantations as they disappear into the mass of bodies.
Suddenly a flame can be seen above the crowd, another one appears and another… until a line of torches flicker beneath the impressive columns of the Acropolis that stands at the very centre of the hill top. T
he sense of anticipation grows until it’s almost tangible and when the first torch is raised, setting alight one of the many pagan symbols raised high above the heads of the watching people; a spontaneous shout erupts from the crowd. The shout gathers momentum and sweeps across the thousands gathered here, growing in volume until it becomes a loud cry of appreciation.
The drums begin.
A steady beat that accompanies the bright progress of the flame as it engulfs the symbols high above the crowd. A chalice, an Ankh, ancient symbols burning brightly in the darkness. A procession begins to make its way through the crowd towards us. Flames flicker, highlighting painted masks and bright costumes.
The drums grow louder as the procession moves closer and I can see the crowd parting before them, moving aside to allow this amazing troupe to move freely through the thousands of eager faces.
The drums become a vibrating, booming rhythm that seems to fill my chest, and vibrate down my legs; it makes my feet want to dance and stamp, makes me want to shout and sing and cry all at the same time.
I can feel a primal joy growing within me and I’m transported to a time where people danced unabashedly and welcomed the coming of summer with flame, celebration and hope.
posted by Rachel at 4:34 AM
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