The moon was already high in the sky when she called him, her offer both simple and historic.
“Mayday,” she said. “Go A-maying with me. Reach deep within the depths of your construct and remember the pagan rituals that are some how ingrained in your DNA.” He had laughed at her impassioned speech. Mayday, amaying, he was Jewish not some pagan in search of a bacchanalian rite of passage… still, it was the middle of the night and this girl was creative.
He met her half way, the glaring lights of the parking lot clashing with the eerie luminescence that filled her eyes with a strange glow.
Neither one had a plan as she threw her bag into his backseat and climbed in beside him. He drove out into the country a small idea forming in his mind. Surely there was a bit of country somewhere out of the reach of city lights.
The both recognized it was THE spot when they came upon it. Two trees had formed a sheltered grove and the moon was glowing through, bathing the area in light. She smiled as they got out of the car, holding his had as he led her to the magical area. She turned towards him, her eyes clouded in an unmistakable way he knew well. She held both of his hands in her and began to speak, weaving a tale for him as old as time.
“Beltane or mayday is a time to be stirred by the energies of nature, a time to recognize the balance of male and female energy. A time to—“she guided his hand to her breasts. “Lie among the grass and blossoms and feel the earth awakening.”