The Dance begins, two weeks late, with the call to the fire by our resident expert in all thing ancent and Celtic, High King Aaronious.
We sing around the fire. "Hey Ho" and "Green Grow the Rushes Oh", also "Myra Myra" and any other song we know that has that stomping, heart pound beat.
Lots of woad and "blood".
"Two, two lilly white boys, clothen all in green oh, the King and his Tanus. This year we had plenty of fir tops, scores had come down in the snow. The forest was ready to call in the summer.
"They dance round the fire singing songs with their friends."
"I'll ever be with them again."
"Here was a royal fellowship."
The King is carried round the "sacrifical fire".
His Tanus follows, like the fall the summer.
Fire and the light of the moon and stars.
The King and his Tanus place their crowns on the flames.