Lighting the Imbolc Fire

Well, naturally we had to light another one. After all, it's a festival, is imbolc. Whatever it's all about.

I always reckon you can never have too many bonfires. Although, to be honest, this is one of the coldest bonfire days for ages. The Beaker Fertility Folk were hoping for the first rites of spring, but took to wandering around moodily wearing hoodies and thick coats.

At least at this time of the year there's a good reason  for lighting fires. They keep you warm. When the broken pallets started to run out we switched to any old brushwood we could find.

But then Young Keith got all over-enthusiastic. I suppose, in retrospect, that cutting down that leylandii to throw it on the fire was deeply appropriate on this, the last day of the Christmas/Epiphany cycle. It was like the last remnant of Christmas had gone. But fresh leylandi, even in the depths of winter, doesn't burn that well. The smoke was horrendous.

So we're back inside now. We've celebrated something - whatever that something was. And we all smell like car air-fresheners. I've had better celebrations.