2005 Lammas Games
Photo by Christine Cleere (Vixen) ©2005
The event began gently, the bustling and chatting of those setting up the games, running stalls and games, gradually joined by people arriving to enjoy the day. And at first the focus was upon the stalls - a wonderful mixture of crafts, jewellery, books and clothes (both new and second-hand), together with tarot and rune readers, and beautifully decorated straw bales creating a stall offering face painting with rich earth pigments and wild colours.
The café claimed custom from the moment the gates opened. Huge plates of organic baked potatoes, pita bread, hunks of wholemeal bread with salads, local cheeses, home made hummus and patés, all organic and as much locally grown as possible. In fact, the café seemed to gather a crowd that lingered around it, especially when the local home made cakes went on sale. And beside it, the bar tent, selling real ale and local wines, organic fruit juices, organic fair trade teas and coffees, seemed to be busy all day.
Early afternoon, with the sounds and vibrance of the five-a-side football teams further across the field, a group gathered to hear speakers. First the herbalist, author and teacher Anna Franklin, who spoke eloquently and magically about her spirituality and vision. After her, Emma Restall Orr, head of the Druid Network, spoke about the Lammas festival, its history and its relevance today, raising issues about harvest, thanksgiving and complacency, and how we might celebrate the gifts of the land. By mid-afternoon, Adrian Harris, from the Dragon Environmental Network, took the space. Newly returned from the G8 protests in Edinburgh, Adrian spoke of political and environmental protest, about the responsibilities and creativity of such action. His talk, begun with prayers, was beautifully thought provoking and yet respectful.
As the football tournament continued and the talks were given, the traditional games were in full swing, from wife-carrying to cheese hurling - some watching with a pint of ale, some joined in.
As the last round of the football was being played, the Eisteddfod began on the beautifully constructed 'pyramid stage'. Simon, the sound engineer, had encouraged enough people to take to the bicycle and produce enough electricity from his pedal-powered generator to give us what proved to be a wholly efficient and environmentally-sound system.
And with Kevan Manwarring (aka Tallyessin, the Bard of Bath) as MC for the contest, individuals took their turn entertaining the gathered crowd who sat in chairs, on straw bales, and in the sunshine on the grass before the stage. There were poems and stories, some poignant, some provoking laughter, most being original work, some adaptations of old myths and tales. The youngest contestant was just 17, the oldest with grandchildren who would have loved to hear the tales.
As the judges scores were added up and the winners announced, the laughter and applause warmed the hearts of anyone, giving a beautiful sense of a true community of humankind - stories shared as stories have been shared for generations. Mark Graham, a Druid who had told a very funny tale indeed, was presented with the Spear of Lugh.
After the Eisteddfod, the Druids called us to the circle for the ceremony of Lammas, and yet more laughter was shared, but with a poignance this time, as the priests talked of the festival. This wasn't a ceremony with a silent and passive congregation or audience, but everyone was encouraged to get involved, as we were told of the mythic hero Lugh who boasted about his many skills - what do we boast about? What great abilities are we proud of ... and how do we use those skills for the benefit of others?
With steaming vegetarian chilli (and barbequed bananas with melted organic fair trade chocolate) being served at the cafe stall, many found their supper and gathered once more at the pyramid stage for the evening's entertainment - a blend of stories, poetry and music by a band of bards called Fire Springs. The source was Greek mythology, and as the night drew in, lanterns and candles lit the stage, as they told the tales. It was enchanting.
The day ended, with some people leaving, others drifting off to their tents, and some moving to the open fire in the field, there sitting round, sharing ale and more music under the stars. And once again I felt a part of something ancient, something poignant.
That the day raised over £2500 for charity seems amazing. It was an honour and a pleasure to be a part of it.