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Beltane under water

May 1, 2012

Merry May Morn?

This is where I was at 4.30 am this morning – up May Hill awaiting the sunrise that never came.

It was the worst weather ever – torrential rain, thick mists, puddles up to your armpits. And I can reveal that 4.30 am, trudging up a hillside in the wet, thick dark is a bad time to discover that both boots have got holes in. But we missed the thunder and lightning, which was all over by 4am. And we had a giant umbrella, and plenty of layers of clothing, and it could have been colder.

If there wasn’t any identifiable sunrise, there was at least a gradual paling of the mist, a lightening of the cloud cover, and a brave display by the Lassington Oak morris men – not to mention the fluorescent poet.

I may not have returned exactly shimmering with the fairy dust of other, better May morns – but we braved it, and survived, and danced (sloshed, anyway) around the hill, and we’ll be able to talk in years to come of the experience, and proudly recount that we were witness to and present at The Monstrous Beltane Of ’12.

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