Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Magic Flower
Hurray, hurray, the First of May:
outdoor f**king begins today.
To “May” or “go Maying” means to go out into the woods to gather the flowers and greenery that will adorn the May celebrations.
Yeah, right.
And Midsummer's Eve is the only night of the year when the magical fern flower blooms, conferring upon the finder health, riches, and the ability to understand the speech of birds and animals. In the North it's longstanding custom for the young to go out together to seek this wonder.
Or so they say.
Through much of human history, winter was the time when you were shut into the house cheek-by-jowl with much of your extended family and (depending on when and where), maybe the cow and the horse, too. Private it wasn't.
Imagine: no privacy at all for six long months.
Six months.
Small wonder that the young took the opportunity for a little private love-making in the wild as soon as ever they could.
And that's why so many babies get born in the spring.
You betcha.
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