Lughnasadh 2005

Circle is cast.

Quarters called

HPS: 	There is a mystery in the harvest... what we plant in the earth dies when it is cut, yet from that harvest comes the new seeds that are planted in the spring and the cycle begins again. The first harvest is an acknowledgement of sacrifice, the giving up of that which we have nurtured and watched over during the growing season.

One by one you will walk the labyrinth blindfolded, carrying only a seed. As you walk, think about what will grow from that seed. Think of the cycle of birth, death and rebirth as we stand on the threshold of the Harvest.

One by one participants are taken into a circle of trees blindfolded. They walk the season of growth by walking a labyrinth holding a seed. When they reach the centre they are sat down and given a stalk of grain to contemplate... The guardian takes the seed from each person as they enter.

Guardian:   	Feel the wheat in your hands, and think about what the harvest means to you. 

I would tell you of the grain, of growth and harvest... the soil rich and dark , the rains sweet and clean, gentle breezes and the warmth of the sun. 

It is midday and a woman stands at the stone boundary of a large field rippling with ripened grain. Beside her is a man stripped to the waist and painted with symbols of grain and mystery. The remains of last years harvest is woven into his hair and binds his wrists. The woman carries a shining sickle which glints in the overhead sun.

Gently she kisses the man on his feet, knees, groin, breast and mouth and then he in turn kneels before her, facing the ripened fields. With her sickle she cuts his throat and he falls to the ground. His blood soaks into the earth and the woman lets cry with a mighty keen. At her cry the grains bends as before a wind... and the spirit of the sacrifice moves through the field, gifting each stalk with its power and mystery.

The woman enters the field and begins to harvest the grain... the sickle moving in a blur as she moves from row to row following the path of the rippling grain.. As she works the sun moves across the sky.

As the last light of the sun shines upon the stubbled field.. she arrives at the farthest corner. The wheat here is still dancing in the breeze... touched with the blood red glow of the setting sun. The woman takes up her sickle and cuts a lock of her hair. She uses the strands to bind the grain in the furthest corner into the last sheaf. 

She kneels before the sheaf and echoing the earlier rite with the man, she kisses the sheaf at the five points. Again her sickle glints in the light of the sun... but like the grain bound before her, the sickle is now as red as the dying sun. Quickly she cuts down the last sheaf where the spirit of the sacrifice has come to rest.

She takes up the last sheaf and walks the boundary of the field, tracing the path of the sun from east to north to west and then to the south in darkness.

The Guardian sings a lament version of John Barleycorn

	John Barleycorn is cut down dead
It is his time to die
The sun that warmed our summer days
No longer is so high
We thanks him and the Goddess fair
We thank them for the Corn
We gather in the harvest now
And leave the fields folorn.

After the lament has been sung, participants are asked to remove their blindfolds.

Harvest Spirit:	Remove your blindfold

Sitting before them is the spirit of the sacrifice, bound across the chest with the last sheaf.

Harvest Spirit:	I am the spirit of the harvest and I move between worlds. I am the seed and the grain, the harvest and the renewal. I am the last sheaf taken from the fields and I give to you one last gift - a glimpse of the world that this harvest has brought into being.

Harvest Spirit performs Ogham reading for the group as a group.

Harvest Spirit:	This is the gift of the harvest, may it be fruitful... Use it well.

Harvest Spirit drops to the ground and HPS cuts the Last Sheaf away from his body.

HPS:	Hail the Harvest Lord. Hail the Last Sheaf.

All to process out of the circle of trees and back into the circle - carrying the Last Sheaf.

HPS:	It is now time for us to partake in the bread of the harvest. 

Everyone to partake in cakes and ale (bread and mead).

Farewells are made and circle is closed.