Name days and old customs

Spring is nearly upon us. No, hang on, don't disappear in disgust! I know this is turning out to be the coldest week of the winter so far. And this isn't more about vegetable seeds and the start of the growing year, although I'm suddenly struck by how perfectly appropriate my last post was.

In the old Celtic calendar, 1 February was Imbolc, the first day of spring. It was one of the four biggest celebrations of the year, one of the quarter-days marking the start of each season - the other three being Bealtaine (1 May, the beginning of summer), Lughnasa (1 August, the start of the harvest and feast of the sun god) and Samhain (1 November, the onset of winter). Of course, our folk calendar still remembers May Day (Edinburgh even has its own official Beltane festival) and All Saints or All Hallows Day, although it's the day before, Halloween, that gets all the attention. But the more agriculturally-focused Imbolc and Lughnasa have long faded into insignificance in our urban society.

Imbolc literally meant something akin to 'stomach' in Irish, the reference apparently being to pregnant ewes, celebrating the onset of their lactation before the lambs start to be born in a couple of weeks time. In a farming society, it was the literal celebration of rebirth and new life after the dead, dark months of winter. It was also the feast day of one of the most important goddesses in the Celtic pantheon, my namesake Brighid - daughter of the sun god and with a particular remit for fire, light, poetry, healing and fertility. Later on when Christianity came to Ireland and the church absorbed the most popular pagan gods, the character of St Brigid took on many of the characteristics of her divine forerunner. Irish hagiography has her the most famous woman in the early Celtic church, founding and leading communities of nuns; custodian of an eternal fire; protector of harvests and the milk yields of cattle and sheep; and patron saint of studies and learning. Apparently there are similar St Brigids (of various spellings) all over formerly Celtic parts of Europe. It's fascinating to see glimpses of how folk beliefs endure over thousands of years, even when religions change, and even in our long industrialised continent.

Anyway, so I've been celebrating my name day as usual by basking in the reflected glory of my divine namesake and enjoying the early signs of spring (light when I opened the shutters at 8am! Snowdrops peeking out everywhere!). And wondering anew how I can better live up to the reputation that goes before me. Maybe I'll try my hand at a poem at writing class tonight...