Inspiration

This post confirms we have a new site and a new date, which is hopefully showing on the front page – 15th to 19th August 2018. The site is not far from the old one, set in a woodland glade. So much is yet to be done… the bookings that were made, reconfirmed or replaced… establishing a new ticketing system (mostly sorted now)… developing a list of folk willing to help out on site. So much, and yet it’s all now under way once more. Cannot wait. The theme of the site is reflected in Yeats’s magnificent poem, and seeks to explore all the different ways the fire in the head is realised in the modern Druid world.

The Song of Wandering Aengus
BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

 

Source: The Wind Among the Reeds (1899)

Published by bish

druid (for a given value of druid), retired electrical engineer, parish councillor and chairman, fair weather biker, olde fart with opinions, prog folk rocker, owner of instruments, known to drink decent beer and better whisky. All comments in a personal capacity. May contain cnuts.

%d bloggers like this: