The first day of February marks the feast of Imbolc in the pre-Christian Celtic calendar in Ireland. Midway between the winter and spring solstices it heralds the traditional start of spring, a season of rebirth and fertility as Nature slowly wakes from its long deep slumber. Since Christian times in the fifth century, it also marks the feast of St. Brigid of Kildare, long observed by the weaving of a Brigid’s Cross from fresh rushes. These woven crosses adorn many Irish doorways invoking the saint’s blessings on the home. With the coming of Christianity to Ireland, the Church often integrated pagan customs and beliefs into the Christian practices. St. Brigid, as we know her today, is likely a melding of that holy woman with an earlier Celtic fertility goddess, Brid, or Brigid, said to be the patron of healers, smiths, and poets. A daughter of the chief god Dagda, the pagan Brigid was a goddess of the mythical tribe Tuatha Dé Danann, an underground people often associated with the Sidhe, or fairy folk in Irish tradition. And so as the cycle of the seasons comes round once more, spring has come early again to Ireland. The snowdrops and crocuses are up, and the birches and whitethorns, hazel, oak, and ash will soon come into leaf. Here in America, what does it matter that the groundhog might see its shadow or not in the early days of February? As inveterate New Yorkers will know, we still have six more weeks of winter before us here. Yet, in the darkness of the bleak midwinter, the days grow perceptibly longer and the daffodils peek out from beneath the melting snows. Within the soil, seeds are coming to life. Soon enough the snowdrops and crocuses and buds on the trees will start to sprout here too. There is hope of brighter days ahead, as the Brigid’s Cross above the doorway reminds us.
The first day of February marks the feast of Imbolc in the pre-Christian Celtic calendar in Ireland. Midway between the winter and spring solstices it heralds the traditional start of spring, a season of rebirth and fertility as Nature slowly wakes from its long deep slumber. Since Christian times in the fifth century, it also marks the feast of St. Brigid of Kildare, long observed by the weaving of a Brigid’s Cross from fresh rushes. These woven crosses adorn many Irish doorways invoking the saint’s blessings on the home.
With the coming of Christianity to Ireland, the Church often integrated pagan customs and beliefs into the Christian practices. St. Brigid, as we know her today, is likely a melding of that holy woman with an earlier Celtic fertility goddess, Brid, or Brigid, said to be the patron of healers, smiths, and poets. A daughter of the chief god Dagda, the pagan Brigid was a goddess of the mythical tribe Tuatha Dé Danann, an underground people often associated with the Sidhe, or fairy folk in Irish tradition.
And so as the cycle of the seasons comes round once more, spring has come early again to Ireland. The snowdrops and crocuses are up, and the birches and whitethorns, hazel, oak, and ash will soon come into leaf. Here in America, what does it matter that the groundhog might see its shadow or not in the early days of February? As inveterate New Yorkers will know, we still have six more weeks of winter before us here. Yet, in the darkness of the bleak midwinter, the days grow perceptibly longer and the daffodils peek out from beneath the melting snows. Within the soil, seeds are coming to life. Soon enough the snowdrops and crocuses and buds on the trees will start to sprout here too. There is hope of brighter days ahead, as the Brigid’s Cross above the doorway reminds us.
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