Magic Abound in the Belly of the Earth
In the fading Cailleach Bheurra, Brìdghe slowly stirs with the promise of Spring. 'Come Brìdghe, come Brìdghe, make your bed,' dancers with linens sing round cradle and effigy of straw, shell, rush, wool, and reed. Imbolc (meaning: 'in the womb') marks the light slowly returning, so time to shake the house! Put on a bassy banger to wake the neighbours and the dead, turn the lights off, serenade a ewe, set fire to something, eat too much cheese. Clear the old, welcome the new, fan away past smoke and rave to new possibilities.