Another bite of winter. If you want to submit an entry for my Winter Wonder series, please send your winter related prose, poetry or art via the form below. If you want to attach an item rather than write straight onto the form, please use the form to send me your email address and I will contact you directly. The best submission will win a free copy of my book, A Modern Celt. I’d love to see your writing on Yule, the solstice, the cold, the weather, the festivities; what does winter mean to you? Joy? Sorrow? Reflection? Or feasting and fun?
Excerpt from A Modern Celt
Another year [at the winter solstice] we became a little lost in the dark, and weren’t sure quite how to find the spot we were looking for. We heard wings overhead, and followed the sound. When the sound stopped, we checked our position. Shining our torches about, we discovered we had been led to the spot we had been searching for. As soon as we were done, a wind whipped up then suddenly stilled. Twigs snapped as though something heavy footed were walking towards us, and the wings began flapping back the way we came. We moved fast to follow the sound, and though the night had been still before, as we moved away from the woods and down the path, with the lake to our side, a new wind whipped ripples up across the surface of the water, seemingly always one step behind us. Just like the year before, we left swiftly and didn’t look back. Both these latter experiences led us to believe we had witnessed an aspect of “The Wild Hunt”: the idea that gods and their entourage, or in Celtic tradition the Fae or aos sí, ride out in a mad cavalcade to hunt down the unwary who dare to be abroad during the darkest midnight. We spent the rest of those evenings snug and warm, drinking and feasting and appreciating good company. Although we had a wonderful time and felt blessed to have felt that presence so strongly, we would not have ventured back there for anything less than an emergency.