If You Go Down to the Woods….

Of all the ancient, ‘old ways’ traditions and celebrations that mark the seasons of the year January brings the first, that of Wassail Day. When the days after the Winter Solstice and Yule and Christmas time dawn a little lighter each day, the dusk slowly, oh so slowly, lengthens out into night and the days hover between mists and rain, hard frosts and fog, and snow drops emerge far below mistletoe boughs where the Thrush sing loud.

Wassailing – this ancient tradition, is the performance on twelfth night, for some the 6th/7th January, for others the old twelfth night date of 17th, of the customary visiting of orchards, especially in cider growing regions in England. The Orchard is host to a cheerful, merry meeting of folk with singing and dancing and stories shared, to raise a toast of last year’s brew in praise of the trees, in the hope of bringing a bountiful harvest in the coming year.

If you go down to the woods this winter January morn,

Tread carefully upon Mother nature’s leaf strewn carpet torn,

Listen to the sigh of the beech tree buds

Awaiting their turn at springtime’s door as warmer weather tugs,

Stare across misty meadows at patient munching cows,

See the ploughman breakfast on cheese and bread,

As through the crowded mossy apple tree boughs

Wisps of smoke, from cooling embers, twist and thread,

Hear the lost words from stories told,

From folksongs sung of days of old,

That whisper and spread, like leftover echoes that stray,

From yesterday’s winter wassailing play.

Words and pictures by Artist and Druid © 2023 unless otherwise indicated