June 23 is a traditional midsummer solstice celebration night in Ireland, dating back to pre-christian pagan and celtic times. Large bonfires are built and burned as the sun sets to ward off evil spirits and honor the Goddes Aine, the Irish equivalent of Venus and Aphrodite.

Yesterday afternoon, as I was heading home from work, I noticed an enormous pile of junk piled up in the green space beside a housing estate. It was like everyone who lived in that estate hauled out all the stuff they just couldn’t get rid of and didn’t want to pay removal fees for – old couches, broken shelves, televisions, building foam. I couldn’t figure it out – I didn’t know about the tradition and I just thought someone was renovating their house or something.

In the evening, on my way to yoga, my eyes were stinging and burning. Tears, I thought. But then I noticed the smell – horrible acrid smoke was filling the streets. Everywhere it smelled of burning tires and melting plastic. As I balanced in the tree pose, fire engines went wailing by. It felt like a state of emergency.

This morning, I walked past the same place where the pile of junk was yesterday. In it’s place was a still-smouldering pile of blackened crap, half-burned furniture frames with the wires still strung between, everything else melted and burned beyond recognition. A few flames still flickered in the center.

Last night I dreamed of electrocution.

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