Imbolc Hare Moon
Patrick is a saint in Ireland, but not one very dear to those of us fond of the old Celtic religion. The snakes that Patrick drove out of Ireland were purportedly the Druids, priests of the ancient Celtic faith. On his side, from Kate and mine’s point of view, is that he good taste in dogs, taking several Irish Wolfhounds with him when he went back to Rome to report.
The Catholic church literally imposed itself on the old religion, adopting certain Celtic goddesses as saints, St. Bridgit, for example. In addition the Catholics frequently build churches over wells holy to the ancient Celts. Or, in the instance of Winifred’s Well in Holywell, mentioned below, they collected the local figures featured in the story, Bueno and Winnifred, and sanctified them. Thus, it became St. Winifred’s Well and Bueno became St. Bueno.
In that sense St. Patrick’s day is anathema. As a man with Celtic blood though, both Irish and Welsh, I enjoy the celebration of things Irish and would have tilted a glass of green beer in times past. Now, I go to Frank Broderick’s home, eat corned beef and cabbage and have the fellowship of the Woolly Mammoths.
