I heard them long before I saw them. I was making my way to St Brigid’s Well, a peaceful shrine beneath ancient oak trees in Kildare. But between the cawing of crows and the squelch of mud underfoot, I heard chanting, the clang of tambourines, and a steady drumbeat.
I’d expected to see people placing items on the old stone shrine but instead, I’d stumbled upon a group of pagan women (and one barefoot man) holding a ritual. They circled a fire, throwing rose petals onto the flames, and sipped ceremonial wine as they called in the sacred spirits. And they let me join in.
