Norse festivals, offerings & customs – anchored to solstices and the old calendar
When did the Norse hold their great blóts – and how? Here are the key festivals for 2026 and 2027, anchored to the exact solstices and the historical Icelandic calendar. For every day: what was sacrificed then, and how you can mark it today.
Deep-winter feast · start of the month Þorri (Bóndadagur)
Þorri is the fourth winter month of the old Icelandic calendar; its first day – Bóndadagur, “farmer’s day” – always falls on the Friday between 19 and 25 January. In the Orkneyinga saga, Þorri is even a legendary figure: an old king, son of Snær (“Snow”) and father of Gói, to whom a midwinter blót was given. In reality it was the hardest stretch of the year: stores were dwindling, the nights at their longest – which is exactly why people feasted. Today’s Icelandic Þorrablót, revived in the 19th century, has become a national feast with mead and þorramatur (fermented shark, head-cheese, ram’s testicles).
Then: In the lean of winter, animals, mead and the best remaining food were offered to the gods and house-spirits – thanks and a plea to make it through the bare months. The Orkneyinga saga tells of the Kvens’ “Þorrablót”, a midwinter sacrifice; whether it was a genuine old custom or a later saga-explanation is uncertain. What is sure: midwinter was a time to make especially sure of the gods.
Today: Gather your kin for a hearty winter feast (Iceland’s þorramatur is the model), raise your cups and toast the ancestors and house-spirits. A light in the window, shared laughter against the dark – and perhaps a small vow for the months ahead. Midwinter is the moment to tend community on purpose.
Pre-spring · day to honour women · often linked with the Dísablót
A month after Þorri comes Góa – on the Sunday between 18 and 24 February. Like Þorri, Góa is a saga figure too: his daughter, searched for when she vanished (hence the “Góa custom” of walking out to greet her). Its first day is Konudagur, “women’s day” – the counterpart to Bóndadagur. In Sweden this season held the famous Dísablót and the great Disting market at Uppsala, one of the year’s most important assemblies.
Then: At the Dísablót one sacrificed to the dísir – the female protective and ancestral spirits – and to the goddess Freyja for fertility and the protection of home and kin. By the Hervarar saga, at Uppsala the Dísablót was even led by a king’s daughter, Álfhildr. In honesty: the Dísablót is recorded very differently by region – in West Scandinavia it fell rather at the autumn Winter Nights, in Sweden in the pre-spring.
Today: Honour the women and foremothers of your family – a call, a visit, a thank-you to those who went before. Light a candle for them and take time to plan the year ahead while the light returns. A quiet, personal feast day.
Light and dark in balance
Astronomically exact: day and night are equal, and light gains the upper hand. Honestly, a clearly attested Old Norse blót on this precise day is lacking. The name “Ostara” comes from the Anglo-Saxon world: in the 8th century the monk Bede names a goddess Ēostre and the month Ēosturmonath; from this Jacob Grimm reconstructed the continental “Ostara” in 1835. For Scandinavia this is not secure – we list the day as an astronomical marker and natural start of spring.
Then: Rather than an attested feast, this is about sowing and renewal: the returning strength of the earth, the first planting, the waking of the livestock after winter. Where it was kept, it was about fertility and a good start to the summer half – no great animal sacrifices, rather small gifts and prayers.
Today: A walk into the waking land, a seed in the soil, the first window thrown wide – a thank-you for more light. Simple, personal and with no fixed rite: a good day to begin something new.
First day of summer (Sumardagurinn fyrsti) · blót “toward summer, for victory”
The first day of summer falls on the first Thursday after 18 April. The Old Norse word Sumarmál means the “start of summer”; with it the bright, active half of the year opened. Now the ships were drawn from the boat-sheds, caulked and loaded – the sea, trade and (for some) the raids were calling. Snorri counts this day among the three great yearly blóts.
Then: Snorri names it the third of the three great sacrifices: “at sumri, þat var sigrblót” – a sacrifice for victory before armies and trading voyages set out. Animals were offered (often hallowed to Odin, god of victory), weapons and ships blessed, and vows sworn for a fortunate journey and safe return. Egils saga mentions sacrificial feasts at exactly this turn into the summer half.
Today: Set yourself a goal for the summer half-year and hallow it with a clear toast (Skål!). Make something ready – a project, a journey, a departure – and take it on with resolve. A day for courage, fresh starts and the first setting-out.
Longest day of the year
The sun stands highest, and in the far north night yields for weeks to a bright twilight. Across the Germanic north, Midsummer was a time of fires, feasting and overflowing life-force – and still is in Scandinavia today (Swedish midsommar, Norwegian Sankthans, Icelandic Jónsmessa). After the solstice the days shorten again: a peak that already announces the turn.
Then: Great solstice fires were lit, held to be cleansing and protective, and feasts ran into the bright night. Thanks were given for light and growth, and a good harvest asked for; in many places it was a time for alliances and weddings. Some link Midsummer with the shining god Baldr, whose light reaches its height here.
Today: A bonfire (where permitted), an open-air feast late into the bright night, flowers and a toast to sun and life-force. A good day to celebrate what is beautiful and to remember those who are bright and dear to you.
Harvest feast in honour of Freyr (modern form)
In early August, as the first harvest comes in, modern Heathens celebrate “Freyfaxi” – a thanksgiving for Freyr, god of fertility, peace and the good year (ár). The name belongs to a sacred horse in Hrafnkels saga, dedicated to Freyr – killing it set off a blood-feud. Kindred in spirit is the Anglo-Saxon Lammas/Hlæfmæsse (“loaf-mass”) on 1 August, when the first bread from new grain was blessed.
Then: Honestly: as a fixed feast “Freyfaxi” is a 20th-century creation. The thing behind it, though, is ancient – thanks for the first harvest. Grain, the first bread and freshly brewed ale were hallowed to Freyr and the land-spirits; a share of the harvest was given away or left on the field, so that fertility would stay in the soil.
Today: Bake bread from the first grain, share it at the table and give a portion away – a harvest thanks in the old spirit of the gift (for “a gift calls for a gift in return”). A word of thanks to field, garden and everyone who lends a hand.
Harvest thanks · balance before winter
Again day and night are equal – but now the balance tips toward darkness. The main harvest is in, stores are counted, livestock sorted for winter. A note in honesty: the now-popular name “Mabon” for the autumn equinox is modern (from 1970s Wicca) and not Norse – we simply call the day by its astronomical name.
Then: In many regions this was the prelude to the great autumn blóts: livestock that would not survive the winter was slaughtered (the great autumn cull), the meat smoked and salted. A portion was hallowed to the gods and land-spirits – thanks for the harvest and a plea for a mild winter. Practical and holy at once: the offering also filled the larder.
Today: A harvest meal with seasonal produce, thanks to the land and to those who helped, the preserving and storing – and a calm preparing for the dark season. A day to settle and take stock.
First day of winter · Álfablót & Dísablót · blót “toward winter, for a good year”
The first day of winter falls on the Saturday between 21 and 27 October. The Winter Nights (Veturnætur) are the threshold into the dark half of the year – and at once the start of the sociable, festive season: now people sat in the hall again. Snorri counts the sacrifice “toward winter” as the first of the three great blóts.
Then: “Blóta í móti vetri til árs” – toward winter, for a good year. The Winter Nights hold the private Álfablót, a household offering to the elves and ancestors: by the Austrfaravísur, the skald Sigvatr was turned away at door after door because the Álfablót was being held inside and no stranger was let in. In many places the Dísablót came too. Animals were offered, their blood (hlaut) sprinkled as a blessing, the ancestors honoured.
Today: Remember the departed, set out a plate and a cup for the ancestors, and consciously welcome the quiet, dark half of the year. A good evening to tell stories, light candles and turn inward.
The great midwinter feast · blót “for growth” · ~12 nights
Jól is the heart of the Norse festive year: the midwinter blót “til gróðrar” (for growth and fertility), kept over some twelve nights around the winter solstice. The very phrase “drekka jól” – “to drink Yule” – shows what it was about. Odin bears the bynames Jólnir and Jólfaðr (“Yule-father”), and across the winter sky rode the Wild Hunt. King Hákon the Good fixed Yule by law to the Christian date (25 Dec) and required everyone to brew ale – so heathen Jól and Christian Christmas grew together.
Then: The greatest sacrifice of the year: animals were slaughtered, among them the Sonargöltr, the sacred boar (hallowed to Freyr), over which people laid their hands and swore solemn vows – heitstrenging – for the new year. The “bragarfull”, the leader’s cup, went round; people drank to the gods (for ár ok friðr) and raised memorial cups to departed kin. It was sacrifice, oath-feast and remembrance of the dead in one.
Today: Keep the twelve nights, light a Yule fire or candles, toast the gods and your loved ones, and swear an honest vow for the new year. Join giving with remembrance – from this very midwinter feast came our Christmas.
A blót was sacrifice and feast in one. By Snorri’s Hákonar saga it ran like this: animals were slaughtered at the farm, their blood – hlaut – caught in bowls and sprinkled with twigs over altar, walls and the gathered people; this counted as a blessing. The meat boiled in great kettles over the hearth, then everyone sat to a shared meal.
The host hallowed food and mead and led the toasts (full): the first cup to Odin – for victory and the king’s power –, then Njörðr and Freyr for “ár ok friðr”, good year and peace; finally the memorial cups for departed kin. The household head or a goði led it all. Horse, cattle, boar and sheep were the chief offerings; mead and gifts were added.
You need believe in nothing to keep these days – as heritage, as a nature festival, or simply as a pause in the turning year. Modern Heathens usually celebrate blót without animal sacrifice: they hallow mead, ale or juice, toast the gods, ancestors and land-spirits (Skål!), pour a sip onto the earth and share a meal. Often a sumbel follows – a round of solemn toasts.
A few simple ways to honour a feast day: light a candle, eat with your kin, go into nature, give something away or make a vow together – and hold the day with a lasting sign, such as an engraving with a rune or symbol that reminds you of it each year.
The Ynglinga saga names three main sacrifices a year: toward winter for a good year (Winter Nights, October), at midwinter for growth (Jól, the solstice) and toward summer for victory (Sigrblót, April). These three carry the whole calendar.
The word comes from a root for “to sacrifice, to worship”. A blót was feast and offering at once: a meal shared with gods, ancestors and land-spirits, toasts to them, and prayers for peace, a good year and victory. The whole kinship celebrated – the feast mattered as much as the offering.
Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla (Ynglinga saga; Hákonar saga góða – hlaut, kettle feast, toasts). Icelandic calendar: Sumardagurinn fyrsti, Bóndadagur/Þorri, Konudagur/Góa, first day of winter. Solstices/equinoxes: astronomical dates (UTC). Álfablót: Sigvatr Þórðarson, Austrfaravísur. Dísablót: Hervarar saga, Víga-Glúms saga. Uppsala: Adam of Bremen (disputed). Where dates or interpretations are uncertain, this is noted.