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The Baker and the Maid
Spring bloomed in the valley with candid splendor. The soft breeze flowing from the Harz mountains carried the aroma of sweet hydrangeas and bright chrysanthemums down to the village. In a synchronized dance, the sunflowers swayed, bending to kiss the bumblebees and butterflies while Brocken Peak stood striking like a sentinel watching over the region.
Walpurgis night marked the end of the cold season and at Bode Gorge the villagers prepared for the feast with enthusiasm.
"Good morning Aidan, I'm here for the wicker basket and the bread. It's time to arrange Beltane's offerings." The fair young maiden urged the baker in the kiosk. Hanging from the stray roof, baskets loaded with the delicious fresh bread and sweets clung. The exposed clay oven was burning and the dough rose for the heat. Nothing is better than the smell of fresh bread in the oven.
"Sure, my sweet Ailie. Ankenschnitt bread, fruits, and herbs are already placed in. Here, be careful, it's heavy." Beaming an amiable smile, perhaps more flirty than friendly, while he handed the basket to the girl. "Don't go yet, there's something else I want to give you." Aidan opened a leather satchel, his blue eyes glowed enthusiasm as he handed a yellow silky ribbon to Ailie.
"Oh, Aidan, this is so beautiful! I like the color of this ribbon. I can't wait to tie it to the pole! I know it will be the only one yellow! Thank you!" Standing on her toes, Ailie placed a kiss on the boy's cheek with childish tenderness.
"You're welcome... It... it's long enough to cut a piece to use as a hairdresser. It will look so pretty in a bow in your red hair tonight. You'll be the fairest of them all." Aidan's voice softened in the way he held the maiden's hand.
Carefully, the redhead placed the ribbon inside her bag. "Aidan please." She lowered her eyes avoiding the handsome baker's insisting gaze. "I better get going. There's still a lot to do in the village, you know, the post still needs to be placed and the pyre set for the bonfires... See you later... and thanks again, Aidan, for the basket and for the ribbon." Carrying the wicker basket in arms, the girl left the baker's kiosk.
Once in the village's courtyard, Ailie placed carefully the loaded basket on the floor by the stoned altar. She smiled with pride and confident that sacrifices and offerings would please Beltane and the goddess in return would favor the region with a bountiful harvest and a less harsh winter.
While conversing and singing, one by one, the maidens adorned a granite gothic cross with all kind of flowers, giving the sober grayish sculpture, a fresh coat of colors. A few steps away, the post had been set for the Morris Dance and each virgin tied her ribbon. Giggling, they chatted and practiced their moves, ready for the eve when the most gracious dancer would be elected May's Queen.
On its way down, the sun brushed the craggy peaks, painting the sky in shades of green, orange, and carmine. Soon, the first stars flickered above the mountain range, the polar star crowing with magnificence the Brocken Peak. Nature wisely marked the time when the Walpurgis would begin. With the pyres blazing, Spring was to be welcomed officially.
