NMR ISSUE 30

An Encyclopedia of Symbols
An Urban Wicca
Astrological Forecast 30
Beltane Song
Editorial 30
Esoteric Symbology of the Tarot
Follow Your Feelings
Healing The Child Within
Healing Woman
Letters 30
Magical Flute II:
Maypole
Recital
Responsibility
The Curse of Simplicity
The Rosicrucian Tarot
Woodpecker

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An Urban Wicca: Beltane

By Alex Miller-Mignone

Although any of the Sabbats is a time for being out of doors and getting as close to nature as possible, the lack of expansive natural venues in the city is decried a lot less at Yule or Imbolc than it is at Beltane. Especially at this formative period of the natural year, when Winter's mantle is gone but Summer's green profusion is not yet at its height, what a joy it is to roam the wild wood, casting an appreciative eye on flora and fauna just beginning to come into their own. For the Urban practitioner of the Craft, there are still plenty of opportunities to commune with the natural world. The key for Urban Wiccans, as always, is know your resources.

Every city has its parks and public spaces, and most of these will be treed and shrubbed, but there are wild spaces as well—abandoned lots and undeveloped little backwaters of land. The former provides sure access to some of the more important props we use: acorns from a park oak for Mabon, pine cones from a stand of firs next the Library for Yule. The latter often yield unexpected treasures one would not ordinarily expect in an urban setting: goldenrod from the train tracks at Michaelmas, sassafras blooms a brilliant yellow by the river in April.

We are fortunately situated; besides our own small backyard with its grove of birch, we are within a mile of three public parks, a large undeveloped field, a major university campus, railroad tracks and a river bank. After a few seasons of acclimatizing to the natural resources and their own local seasonal patterns of flowering and fruiting, it is possible to obtain virtually anything by going to the right place at the right time with just a little forethought and planning, plus some help from the Goddess.

One of our traditions that has become the most popular at Beltane is the Blossom Altar. Formed in the center of the old industrial spool that serves as our outdoor altar, the Blossom Altar consists of a flat-topped, square piece of wood or masonry (in our case it is a largish plaster lion's head, originally a bookend) topped with a shallow round bowl. While we cannot grow every type of flowering tree and shrub in our tiny garden, we can bring sprigs of their blossoms as reminders of their spring beauty. These we refresh and preserve for several days by placing in the water in the shallow draft plaster disk atop our Blossom Altar. Vivid bursts of chartreuse or scarlet maple blossoms vie with the brilliant white or palest peach of flowering crab or apple, ornamental pear or dogwood, and the stunning yellows of forsythia. These can easily be collected, one blossom at a time (being careful to take only the blossom, and not the branch) from public trees, or by waiting for a good blustery April shower to knock them loose from private trees onto the public sidewalks. The blossoms create a springtime forest in miniature on the altar; it is one of the traditions of the year we look forward to the most.

One of the nicest things about the season is the return of the bees. We'll see a few bees as early as March, if there is anything worth sniffing in the garden. But it is not until mid to late April, when daffodils and tulips are beginning to tempt and pansies and violas have been bedded out, that their numbers increase dramatically. These seemingly tireless workers are fascinating to watch as they buzz from plant to plant, burrowing into each separate blossom; sometimes, with clustered blooms like lantana or verbena, taking the time to inspect each budlet of the bloomhead. Our miniature patio roses are often coming into first bloom by Beltane as well, and the perennial herbs are growing bushy in their sunny corner. These won't bloom until August, by which time their floral competition in the garden will be stiff, but the bees play no favorites. I have seen small squadrons of a half dozen or so bumbles do the yard in under fifteen minutes, fanning out like so many scouts in a pack, reporting in at intervals to compare notes on the best pollen available.

More than anything, Beltane is a season of Promise. There is Faith at Samhain—its polar opposite on the Wheel of the Year, when we see the world dying about us—Faith that life will return in its season. And there is Hope at Yule—Hope for a new and better world in the New Year. There is Fulfillment at Mabon, when the year's harvest is in. But at Beltane there is Promise. The Ancient Romans celebrated this season for the promise of the fruit seen in the flower; Floralia was their name for the celebration. There is something special in seeing the genesis of things: the apple flower that will fruit at Samhain, the egg that will be a cardinal scratching at your feeder next Yule, the kitten that will be a cat curled on your lap next Imbolc. At no other season of the year is nature's incredible resilience and fecundity more apparent than in this heady burst of life that is Beltane.

Traditionally celebrated May 1, Beltane is one of the eight seasonal turning points of the Sun's yearly apparent about earth. Astrologically, Beltane celebrates the Sun's arrival at the Power Gate of the Fixed Earth Sign Taurus, the 15th degree of that sign, which due to precession actually occurs about the 6th of May. As one of the cross-quarter days, Beltane is one of four Great Sabbats (Samhain is the most popularly commemorated of these, as the secular Hallowe'en). Imbolc and Lammas have virtually no modern day referent. But Beltane, as May Day, still holds its own. Until recently it was one of the most important celebrations in the Soviet Union, and China still celebrates its Communist roots on this day, while in other European countries there are celebrations of freedom and democracy.

Originally, of course, this secular accent was lacking. But unlike Imbolc (which became Catholic Candlemas), or Samhain (which became Catholic All Saint's Eve), Beltane remained comparatively free from the inroads of Christian divines, maintaining in its essence a very countrified, hence pagan emphasis. (The term pagan derives from Latin pagano, which means country-dweller; likewise heathen means merely dweller on the heath.) English country customs of choosing a Ring and Queen of the May, decorating and dancing around the Maypole, were an unusually socially acceptable remnant of pre-Christian rites and culture. They and continued well into the days of the Industrial Revolution, though little of them will be found now.

Today we celebrate Beltane in a rather quiet, private way. For various reasons, out of town guests are a rarity at this festival, unlike Lammas, Samhain and Yule, when we are packed in three to a bed. So it is just the locals in our extended family who gather around the Blossom Altar in the burgeoning grove of birch, freshly mantled with miniature lime green leaves. Fresh spring flowers from potted bulbs adorn the nooks and crannies between shrubs and trees, everything from brightly striped gypsy crocus to huge trophy-sized black tulips. Armloads of seasonal cut flowers fill every vase and bowl, while large glass-gloved candles in varying shades of green ring the altar.

There is a bowl of May wine—a light, refreshing Rhinewine with sprigs of sweet woodruff and strawberries afloat. The repast is light: crescent cakes and salad, perhaps whole grain rolls and a light fruit tart or strawberry cheesecake to top it off. The celebration is simple, but emotions run high as we contemplate the full return of light and warmth to the earth, and a full season ahead of growth and productivity.

Alex Miller-Mignone, Urban Wicca at large, is a professional writer and astrologer, and past president of Philadelphia Astrological Society. His specialty is Galactic Astrology, which uses Deep Space points in addition to the planets and asteroids of our own solar system. His work appears frequently in The Mountain Astrologer and Welcome To Planet Earth, and he publishes a newsletter, The Galactic Calendar, eight times yearly. He can be reached for information or consultation at 627 S. 26th Street, Philadelphia, PA, 19146 or (215) 735-1872.