Gŵyl Ifan at St Lythans – A Spirit Night in the Cauldron of Summer
Gŵyl Ifan is one of Wales’ ancient festivals and although it later took on Christian attributes, it is far older than that. Deeply rooted in the Welsh spirit tradition, Gŵyl Ifan falls close to the time of the Summer Solstice and marks one of the three Ysbryd Nos, or “spirit nights” of the year. In keeping with these liminal thresholds, I always choose to hold my public rituals on the eve, when the veil is soft and the whispers of the land grow near.
Preparation as Devotion
The ritual doesn’t begin when the fire is lit or the circle is cast — it begins in the heart, and in the hands. Preparation is part of the ritual itself, both physical and spiritual. I worked with the ancestors in journey and quiet reflection, checking what needed to be honoured. I also visited the site ahead of time to ensure its readiness. The old Oak who watches over the chamber was consulted and after I explained what I had planned, I asked her what else was needed. Her silent nod in the wind was enough to know I had her blessing.
A Small Circle, a Deep Current
I didn’t expect many to attend. The Solstice weekend had been full and joyful for many, and I knew that for some, rest would call more loudly than ritual. But that never matters. It’s not about numbers, it’s about the quality of the moment and the sincerity of the offering. I was deeply grateful to be joined by three dedicated souls who brought their presence, their reverence and their open hearts. The Power of 3 playing it’s part.
The day was clear and bright, but the wind cut sharply across the fields, a reminder that even in the sun’s height, the spirit of the air remains wild. It called for a simple, rooted ceremony.
Stepping Into the Old Stories
After my permission chant, I entered the field and walked to the ancient chamber of St Lythans. Unlike the other two Spirit Night rituals, which I held beneath the trees, this was to be held within the stones themselves. It’s a powerful place, with layers of folklore folded into the land. One such story tells of the three Maidens , the upright stones who, at midnight on this night, are said to leave the chamber and walk to the river to wash.
We honoured them by offering water and herbs and waking them with soft words and love.
The Birch, the Flame and the Herb
Traditionally, Gŵyl Ifan honours three key elements: y fedwen haf (the summer birch), the sacred bonfire, and St John’s Wort. The birch, a tree of beginnings and renewal, is usually honoured by tying ribbons of desire and intent to a branch. But no birch could be found that day. Instead, with the Oak’s permission, we used one of her fallen branches, which felt fitting and right.
St John’s Wort was also elusive this year, the land had other plans but her sister, Tutsan, stood ready, along with a generous armful of meadowsweet, which grew in abundance around the site. These were gathered respectfully and with thanks.
We lit the cauldron-fire using three chosen woods, keeping to the tradition of no more than nine. One by one, we offered herbs to the flame with whispered blessings, letting the smoke carry our prayers.
The Living Land
As the drumming began to rise, young cows from the nearby field wandered close, curious and bold. Though their presence delighted us, we had to gently encourage them away for their own safety and ours, as the fire and artefacts could have posed danger. Still, their presence was a blessing. They were part of the land’s chorus, witnesses to our rite.
A Toast to the Maidens, a Leap of Faith
At the close of the ritual, we raised a cup, mead for some, herbal drink for others in honour of the ancestors, the season, and the unseen ones who share this land with us. Then, in tradition, we offered the chance to jump the cauldron. This ancient act brings protection and vitality and while some may leap physically, others do so in spirit. All are valid.
Dusk and Departure
As the sun began to bow to the west, we lingered for a time, breathing in the moment. The ritual felt complete, not grand, but deeply true. We packed up quietly, offered final thanks and walked away into the arms of the new moon night, each of us carrying a little flame home.
