I've been an avid reader since the day that Sister Mary Michael showed me how the letter "S" says "Ssssss." (When I was growing up, in the late fifties, parents were warned NOT to teach their children to read. I think that cost me about three years, and I've been making up, ever since.)
And although I've read and forgotten more stories than I can count, what stays with me, far more than the names of the characters or the specific events, are the archetypes. (I still remember my impatience when I was, in the mid 70s, in college and all my friends were reading Lord of the Rings. I didn't, as they did, want to master Elvish or remember the exact names of all the characters or the precise sequence of the battles. Who cared? That wasn't, for me, what the books were ABOUT. The books were about the archetypes and themes, and, those, I got, w/o having to speak Elvish or remember the name of the third set of Hobbit cousins.) And although I can't name the books that mentioned it, "baby conceived at Beltane," (born in January, so Capricorn or Aquarius) is one of the archetypes buried deep in my soul.
So it's with joy that I read this report of a "Beltane Baby":
He said: "We basically know that Reuben was conceived at last year's Beltane. There was a sex ban imposed on all the Red Men before the event as we were to be charged with as much energy as possible for the night."
Although Reuben will be staying at home tomorrow while his parents entertain more than 12,000 people on Calton Hill, he has been taken to watch rehearsals this week.
His dad said: "We really wanted him to be there, but we thought it would just be too much this time."
12,000 Beltane revelers. It blows my mind. May you, as well, perform the great rite, together or alone, and may you, as well, give birth to something wonderful.
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."