While commentators grouse about issues concerning accuracy, and some readers remain skeptical, more and more signs seem to point to the continuing rise of modern Paganism and the widespread acceptance of a secular “folk-pagan” idiom for seasonal celebrations in Britain. In the Guardian, Cole Moreton, who’s writing a book about the soul of Britain, wonders if “everyone’s a Pagan now”.

“Not quite, maybe, but the rise has been dramatic. The census in 2001 recorded 40,000 pagans, but the true figure may be higher … The Pagan Federation, which aims to represent all “followers of a polytheistic or pantheistic nature-worshipping religion”, claims the number of adherents has trebled at least. That would mean there were 360,000 committed, practising pagans, putting them ahead of the Sikhs (329,000) and fourth behind Hindus (552,000), Muslims (1.5 million) and Christians (42 million, according to the census) … All you have to believe to be a pagan, according to the federation, is that each of us has the right to follow our own path (as long as it harms no-one else); that the higher power (or powers) exists; and that nature is to be venerated. If you asked everyone in Britain if they agreed with those three statements, millions would put their hands up. At its loosest, paganism is beginning to look like our new national faith.”

As if to validate Moreton’s thesis, the Summer Solstice gathering this year at Stonehenge was the largest ever, with an estimated 36,500 revellers making their way to Salisbury Plain.

“Despite the sun not making an appearance in an overcast sky, record numbers of people arrived to celebrate the occasion. An eccentric mix of Morris dancers, pagans dressed in their traditional robes and musicians playing guitars and drums gathered alongside visitors from across the world.”

There seems to be a certain British character that lends itself to celebrating its ancient landscape, and it affects you no matter what religion you actually adhere to. Pagan, Christian, atheist, or even Sikh.

“I think we ought to start a campaign to celebrate Midsummer in a more spectacular way. As a species we have specialised in creating tension, division and war. I am not for a moment suggesting we eschew organised religion. What I am suggesting is that we embrace our commonality. We all exist in the warmth of the sun, the light of the moon; we live by the tree and drink of the river. I suggest that we create a pantheistic precedent and have the first multi-faith celebration of the sun, of the galaxy and of the universe. I would like this event to take place in Croydon. We should, for one long day only, forget our differences and unify under the canopy of a shared sky. We will welcome the pot-smoking hippies, the groovy Bhuddists, the depression-embracing goths, the perennially troubled Christians, the ideologically-centred Sunnis and the daughters and sons of Khalsa. Food ought to be available for vegetarians, vegans, omnivores, and chocolate for the pot-heads. We should all wear differently coloured, full-length, smock-dresses that celebrate the colours of nature (no one, not even Croydon’s own Kate Moss, looks good in a smock-dress: it is a great leveller).”

So is the British soul, deep down, really a pagan soul? Or does it just seem that way around Midsummer?