We spent May 2nd at the Santa Cruz Waldorf School for their May Fair. The traditional maypole dance, performed by the 6th grade class, was every bit as beautiful as I remember from childhood.
|Showing off his big boy standing|
Girls and women wore white dresses and floral head wreaths. Kids rode ponies, fished for treasure, and met fairies. A man dressed in a suit of hanging green fabric strips, wearing a beard of long strands of felted wool wandered around mumbling about the buzzing bees. I should have gotten a picture, but he made me kind of uncomfortable. Was he Father Spring? Is that even a thing? I'm sure he has pagan roots, like the may pole tradition. He added to the mystical ancient feel of the festival.
Waldorf feels timeless, as they celebrate pagan holidays, knit slippers, and create sculptures out of beeswax among the redwoods. Me, my sisters, and my brother all attended Waldorf for at least part of our schooling. This place hasn't changed since the 1980s, and that's a very good thing.
|The maypole after the dancers weaved the ribbons|
Whether Wilder attends Waldorf or not, I can't wait until he's old enough to participate in some of the activities there. Every kid needs to meet a fairy in her garden, surrounded by Spring flowers and crystals.
|The ribbons mid-dance, being woven|
|We so wished one of us was the right size to walk in the cake walk, |
but Wilder is too small and we are too big.