"My mother comes from a place called Masshill [County Sligo, Ireland] in the Ox Mountains, but, unfortunately, her immediate family had all moved away, mostly to England, by the time I was about three or four years old. However, I do remember several of the stories of the house dances that used to be held there and also of the summer's evening dances on the flat bridge over the Black River, just below the house. In later years I got to know some of the musicians who would have been playing at those dances... "
        - Kevin Burke, November 2000

Bridge - Merrymaking, flirtation and easy-going connections between individuals or communities.

This song from by Jack Dodd, from Newfoundland, describes similar memories. On the Big River bridge on an evening in June To enjoy the village dancing by the light of the moon For the happy sound of laughter and the old time quadrille Sure is among my happy memories of old Flatrock Hills Now time it will change but the old bridge will stand It's the same as when we stood there hand in hand It's old stone foundation supporting itself And the river still flows o'er the old Flatrock Hills In a reading, this card might be there to remind us of the importance of connections, and not only for the more practical uses of commerce or travel, but also for the fun of coming together. Individuals easily become sour and stale without a bit of socialising, and communities falter without the influx of new blood from their neighbours.

One of my favourite examples of communities using a bridge is the annual meeting  on the Wye bridge, which links Chepstow, in Wales, with the communities of Tutshill and Sedbury, in England around New Year. Wassailers from the English side and a Mari Lwyd party from the Welsh side meet mid-bridge for an exchange of cultural celebrations and partying. This link will take you to a video of the event. I've set it to begin at the meeting on the bridge, but the whole video is enjoyable, if you have time.

Wassail and Mari Lwyd on the Wye Bridge, Chepstow.

Go Deeper Reading

$

40.00    

 

 

Go Deeper oracle reading by email.

More information about my readings at this link.

Some thoughts on the coming of Lugh.

He raced the waves along the strand; he gathered apples sweeter than honey from trees with crimson blossoms: and wonderful birds came to play with him. Mananaun's daughter, Niav, took him, through woods where there were milk-white deer with horns of gold, and blackmaned lions and spotted panthers, and unicorns that shone like silver, and strange beasts that no one ever heard of; and all the animals were glad to see him, and he played with them and called them by their names.

"I see a kingly harp within reach of your hand," said Lugh.

"That is the harp of the Dagda. No one can bring music from that harp but himself. When he plays on it, the four Seasons--Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter- pass over the earth."

"I will play on it," said Lugh.

The harp was given to him.

Lugh played the music of joy, and outside the dun the birds began to sing as though it were morning and wonderful crimson flowers sprang through the grass--flowers that trembled with delight and swayed and touched each other with a delicate faery ringing as of silver bells. Inside the dun a subtle sweetness of laughter filled the hearts of every one: it seemed to them that they had never known gladness till that night.

Lugh played the music of sorrow. The wind moaned outside, and where the grass and flowers had been there was a dark sea of moving waters. The De Danaans within the dun bowed their heads on their hands and wept, and they had never wept for any grief.

Lugh played the music of peace, and outside there fell silently a strange snow. Flake by flake it settled on the earth and changed to starry dew. Flake by flake the quiet of the Land of the Silver Fleece settled in the hearts and minds of Nuada and his people: they closed their eyes and slept, each in his seat.

Lugh put the harp from him and stole out of the dun. The snow was still falling outside. It settled on his dark cloak and shone like silver scales; it settled on the thick curls of his hair and shone like jewelled fire; it filled the night about him with white radiance. He went back to his companions.

The sun had risen in the sky when the De Danaans awoke in Nuada's dun. They were light-hearted and joyous and it seemed to them that they had dreamed overnight a strange, beautiful dream.

"The Fomorians have not taken the sun out of the sky," said Nuada. "Let us go to the Hill of Usna and send to our scattered comrades that we may make a stand against our enemies."