In the hours before dawn on the morning of Oimlec, the Cailleach walks the land, knowing that her time is at hand. The stirrings that she feels beneath her feet, and in her being urge her towards her destiny. In those last minutes before sunrise she kneels at, tobar na h-O\ige, the Well of Youth. Laying her black rod beside it she cups her hands, and dipping them into the well she begins to wash her face�transformation�the light returns. She dips into the well a second time, and washes her face�transformation�the land is reborn. A third and final time she dips into the well and brings the water to her face�transformation�Brighid is come again.

Taking up the Barrag Bride, the white rod of Brighid, she stands. The Sun breaks the eastern horizon shining with warmth upon her face�the Sovereigness of the land has returned. Brighid of the Fair Mantle, Brighid of the Bright Inspiration, Brighid the Exalted One. Brighid the gentle shepherdess, guardian of cattle, protector of the newborn, nursemaid to the sick and weary, inspiration of the poet. With the Barrag Bride in her hand she will dance upon the land and undo that which the Cailleach has done. Warmth shall return, light shall return, and soon the winds of the south shall bring bounty and plenty to the land once again. In her dance of life she will tempt the King that has returned and when latha buidhe Bealltainn, the feast of Bealtainn is upon us, she will make the marriage to the land with him. But that my friends is a story�yet to come.
Greaghoir Mac an Gobhainn
Is e mo neart mo clann