Spring has arrived with a storm…
It feels like the Wild Hunt rides again!
When I called upon Wolf, Old One-eye rode along and pulled me in to join the Hunt.
So we hunted the Unseelie, we harried them from dusk till dawn.
here is an old tale goes, that Herne the Hunter
(Sometimes a keeper here in Windsor forest)
Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,
Walk round about an oak, with great ragg’d horns,
And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle,
And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain
In a most hideous and dreadful manner.
You have heard of such a spirit, and well you know
The superstitious idle-headed eld
Receiv’d and did deliver to our age
This tale of Herne the Hunter for a truth.
(Shakespeare, The Merry Wives of Windsor, 4.4.28-38)