<h2>Samhain: At the Threshold of Worlds</h2>

Samhain: At the Threshold of Worlds

October has always felt like a homecoming to me. The air sharpens, the leaves burn gold and crimson, and lantern light glows warmer against the dark. As a lifelong lover of Halloween, I can’t help but confess that this is where so much of it begins — at Samhain, the ancient festival that marks the crossing from light to dark. To stand on an October night, with the wind carrying the scent of smoke and soil, is to sense you are standing at a threshold between worlds.

What Samhain Was (and Wasn’t)

Samhain (pronounced Sow-in or Sah-vin, depending on dialect) was not the “Celtic New Year” in the tidy calendar sense we often hear today, but rather a liminal turning point. It was the great hinge of the year: the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter’s dark half. To the early Irish and Scottish peoples, this was more than agricultural bookkeeping — it was a spiritual frontier. Cattle were driven from summer pasture, fields closed, and households prepared for the long months of scarcity.

The Veil Grows Thin

At Samhain, boundaries between the living and the dead were believed to weaken. But it was not only the departed who might cross — the Aos Sí, the fairy-folk of Irish lore, were thought to roam more freely. Families left offerings of food and drink outside their doors, both for ancestors and for these otherworldly visitors. It was a night of hospitality toward the unseen, an act of both reverence and caution.

Bonfires & Rituals

Great fires were lit on the Hill of Tara and the Hill of Ward (Tlachtga) in Ireland, their glow visible for miles. Communities gathered, and from these sacred flames, hearths in each household were relit — binding people together in ritual unity. Some obscure traditions even suggest that ashes from these fires were spread upon fields, a charm for fertility and future harvests. The fire was both protection and renewal, standing as a beacon in the gathering dark.

Masks & Disguises

To walk safely on Samhain night, one might wear a mask or a strange guise — not for play, but to confuse or repel spirits. This custom grew into later practices of “guising” or mumming, when groups in costume would go door to door for food or coin. Early echoes of today’s trick-or-treating can be found here, where disguise, gift, and ritual mingled.

Divination & Fortune-Telling

Apples, hazelnuts, and loaves of bread became tools for seeing what lay ahead. Apples bobbing in water, or peeled in long curls to foretell initials of a future spouse. Hazelnuts, sacred in Celtic lore, were roasted in divination games. In later centuries, the Irish baked barmbrack, a sweet bread hiding charms — a ring, a coin, a thimble — each carrying a fate for whoever found it. Standing in barns or before mirrors by candlelight, the bravest sought a glimpse of their future beloved in the shifting dark.

Christian Overlay

With the rise of Christianity, the Church overlaid Samhain with All Saints’ and All Souls’ observances. Ancestors were still remembered, but with prayers rather than food offerings. Yet, as sermons and edicts show, old customs proved difficult to uproot. To many, the festival remained a mingling of sacred duty, folklore, and seasonal rhythm.

Obscure & Forgotten Details

• In the Mythological Cycle of Ireland, the goddess Morrígan met the Dagda at Samhain, joining in ritual union before the great battle against the Fomorians.
• Fairy hosts, like Europe’s Wild Hunt, were said to ride across the night skies — dangerous to witness, and best appeased with offerings.
• Several invasions and battles in Irish epic tales are set at Samhain, when the world itself seemed poised between order and chaos.

Modern Resonance

Though centuries have passed, Samhain survives in Irish Halloween traditions — carved turnips, fortune loaves, and masked wanderers. It has also been reborn in modern Celtic paganism, Wicca, and seasonal festivals worldwide. For me, standing in the October night still carries that ancient shiver. The crackle of a candle, the watchfulness of the dark, the thought of ancestors near — all echo the firelit gatherings on distant hillsides. Samhain is not gone; it is simply changed, waiting for us to remember.

Closing: Toward All Hallows

This is only the beginning. In my next post, we will trace how Roman traditions and the Christian feast of All Hallows blended with Samhain’s fire and shadow, shaping the holiday we know today. The threshold is wide, and we are only just stepping through.