This August 1st festival has two major names: Lammas and Lughnasadh. A quick piece of research online (yes we all go there!) reveals that they might not necessarily be Christian and pagan versions of exactly the same thing, although they are related in our awareness. For once, the Christian version of the event seems to have a stronger identity. The word Lammas is derived from “loaf mass” and the festival often involves creating beautiful bread and visiting bakeries. Bakeries mean community. In lockdown, many of us started baking our own bread and it has a feeling of sharing about it because it’s something specialised that people can do for their friends and family to feed and support them. Even back in medieval times, it might still have been sourdough, before it was replaced in later centuries by purpose-cultured yeast. That’s something pagan people have always understood: what goes around comes around.
This is one of the quieter festivals. It doesn’t shout out its name like others. It’s the beginning of the land becoming more productive, when our ancestors could really start reaping and then baking. It’s a preparation for the time of bounty and of storing up for autumn and winter, which are starting to loom in the back of our consciousness. Again – what goes around comes around. In various parts of Britain there are open spaces which are known as ‘Lammas Land’. This meant that they were private property until this day – Lammas Day – after which everyone could use them for pasturage. I remember Lammas Land in Cambridge, which is now part of the city but which still retains an edge of wildness.
These ancient customs still linger in our subconscious. There is a celebration of many of these historical festivals in a book coming out from Watkins Publishing in October. It’s called Folklore Rising, written by artist Ben Edge. He is renowned for painting old, mostly pagan, festivals and mysterious sites such as Callanish, Wayland’s Smithy and Stonehenge. His vibrant paintings are reproduced in the book, along with text about his feelings and experiences in these places and as an eyewitness to the old rituals.
Lughnasadh is both the height of the summer and the turning of the summer. We remember dreamy days and dips in the stream under the shade. No matter how old we are now, we can still go out onto the land and forget everything that weighs us down. I always recall the old song John Barleycorn. He is a ritual figure who is sacrificed to ensure a good harvest and who rises again in the following year. The barley makes bread and beer and the two processes are closely related. John Barleycorn is often represented as a corn dolly and perhaps this season – if we have the skill – we ourselves can make corn dollies and be grateful and mindful of what we have, and be aware of the death that will always follow. The wonderful thing though is that life always returns.