I thought I wrote about this before but apparently I didn’t, not on this blog at least. But I did write about it here, in Romanian though. I think this is one of my favourite holidays alongside St. Andrew’s Night. And that is simply because it’s magic. It’s again one of those days when religion meets tradition, when Romanians celebrate the birth of St. John the Baptist but also a mystical night belonging to fairies, a celebration called in my part of the country Sânzienele. The name is taken after some beautiful yellow flowers called Sânziene, that I so desperately scatter the fields for every year. Back home they are yellow and in full bloom around this time of the year. Here the ones that are in bloom now are white, the yellow ones are still hiding… but not from me.

So, what is so special about tonight: everything. First and foremost, you dream of your soulmate. This has been the best part about this celebration for more than 15 years for me: I never remember who I dream of and I am pretty sure there has been a different person every year. Leaving the joke aside, it is said to be the night when the skies open for the most faithful and you can see into Heaven. It is also the night when magic fairies dance in the forest and then head off to the villages to bring love and fertility to young wives, give magic and healing power to plants and punish the ones that do not believe in them and don’t celebrate their day. One of the greatest Romanian authors, Mircea Eliade, wrote a novel about this night, “Noaptea de Sânziene” (“The Forbidden Forest”), which is one of the most beautiful books I have ever read. I am not going to say what it is about, but in a way it all starts and ends in a forest on this night.

I recently read that the celebration’s name, just as the flower’s name, comes from Santa Diana, the goddess of the forest in Roman mythology. The traditions linked to this holiday are just as varied as the regions of Romania. In some parts of the country the celebration is called Dragaica, in other parts great fires are used all night to keep away evil. All in all, almost everywhere it’s a celebration of love and a reason for joy. It is warm and colourful, mystic, magic and sacred in the same time.

And for a personal touch, I found myself today in the middle of the field gathering these beautiful flowers, just as I used to do when I was a kid back home. I went for the yellow ones this year, the ones I so desperately looked for in the countryside a few days ago. I also got a lot of white ones and played around with combinations of other flowers. I might not put them up in a crown and throw it on the roof to gather magic dew tomorrow morning, nor will I put them under my pillow to dream of my soulmate, but I think it is fair and beautiful to have them in the house. Because I grew up with this holiday, because I believe in it, and because one night, a long time ago, I went out on this night to see if the skies opened and if I can see into Heaven, and I saw the most beautiful sky one could ever see: the dark sky of a night at home in the countryside, lit by a shooting star. It made me feel tiny, afraid but for a moment it made me feel like I am looking into infinity. Gonna leave you now with a beautiful song from the Romanian folklore.