It’s time for the Midsummer’s festival

A good many visitors to this country find it strange we pay so little attention to Midsummer’s Day. A national holiday in much of Europe, celebrated by week-long festivals in Brazil and elsewhere, it hardly rates an honorable mention in the U.S. 

Ours is a country anxious to celebrate something. We make a fuss over Groundhog Day, St. Valentine’s, St. Patrick’s, April Fools, Columbus Day and Mardi Gras. We dare not forget Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Grandparent’s Day or Sec-retary’s Day. And there’s Earth Day, Arbor Day, Cinco De Mayo, Boss’s Day, Bird Day, Native American Day, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa. Every parent knows when to costume their children and send them out to extort treats, but ask 10 people on the street what date Mid-summer’s Day falls on and I’ll be surprised if you get a right answer.   

Those who study ancient history tell us the first people to celebrate the middle of summer lived in a cave. Months in their cold, dank home made the end of winter welcome, but spring could not be trusted. A warm sun and early thaw sent men on hunting trips, only to be dumped on by a March blizzard. The time to celebrate, they decided, was when the sun was at its highest. Only then were the warm days sure to last—at least for a while. 

And celebrate they did. For centuries the festivals evolv-ed—religious in some places, not at all so in others. The parties sometimes lasted for days with dancing, drinking, feasting, roaring bonfires and, well, other things. The holiday came to be much about sex and romance. In some countries, nude bathing got the celebration started, and “trial marriages” were acceptable. Some believed girls who splashed their faces with midsummer dew were assured of beauty, while skipping naked through the early morning dampness improved fertility. In Sweden the raising of the Maypole was, so it is said, symbolic. 

The warm nights of midsummer were ideal for court-ship, for marriage, and nine months later came March, the best time for babies to arrive.  

With these things in mind Midsummer’s Day seems like a holiday Americans would relish, but we get more excited about Phil the groundhog.   

In this country it is primarily those of Swedish descent that keep the tradition alive. The Swedes of Stanton do their part. Compared to what took place in old world countries, their celebration is restrain-ed—a two-hour event that includes a modest feast of Swedish pancakes, sausage, and lingonberries. 

Stanton’s Midsummer’s Day is a family event. There’s no wild partying, no all-night bonfire, we doubt you’ll see any of the local ladies dashing naked through the dew, and no drinking. 

What is offered is a nice re-creation of a traditional Swedish holiday, complete with folk dances and a Maypole and assorted other entertainment—altogether a pleasant and unusual way to spend a Sunday evening.