To our staff - and probably to most readers of those letters - it's been, if nothing else, an education in a way of life that we know next to nothing about.

So when we were invited to find out more about paganism as practised locally by attending the Bute Pagans' Litha camp, it seemed too good an opportunity to miss.

First of all, while it's fair to say that we didn't expect the subject of paganism to crop up in our letters page at all, in hindsight it could hardly have happened at a more fitting time of year, occurring as it did only days before before the annual news reports of the summer solstice celebrations at Stonehenge.

But that - and the winter solstice on December 21, of course - is about as much of a mention as paganism gets in the mainstream media.

Which gives rise to an awful lot of ignorance, and to lots of warnings along the lines of "watch out for the naked dancing and the ritual sacrifices!" when I tell people I'm going to a pagan camp.

Although I'm pretty confident that Bute's pagans don't go in for either, it's still with a degree of uncertainty that I head for their campsite - though that's largely because the exact location hasn't been publicised, except to those who have signed up to take part.

That, I think, is not out of any desire to add a sense of mystery, more a fear that if the exact location is widely known by all and sundry, it might attract those who don't know a great deal about paganism, who only want to criticise - or, even worse, to poke fun at a religion (for paganism is a recognised religion, and has been for several years) which, like all faiths, is taken very seriously by its followers.

In fact, I'm convinced I must have driven right past Fearn Wood (Fearn, in this case, being pronounced 'faroon'), and am just about to turn back at the next passing place when I notice half a dozen tents set up in a small wood off to my right, just yards from the roadside - an ideal place, it appears, to camp in the middle of summer.

Confirmation that this is indeed the place I'm looking for is provided when Lance McLellan-Hatton appears out of the trees to greet me. Lance is the president and founder of the Bute Pagans, and is clearly keen to spread understanding of the faith on Bute by explaining what he does and what paganism is about.

"Our ritual at this time of year is in celebration of Litha, the old Celtic word for the midsummer solstice, which means 'stopping' or 'turning'," he says.

"This time of year is a battle between the Holly King and the Oak King - the Oak King is born on December 21, and rules until the midsummer solstice, when he fights the Holly King for rulership.

"The Holly King always wins at this time of year, and he takes over to look after the land for the next six calendar months.

"The Holly King represents the darker side of nature, though that's not darkness as in evil - it merely means that his rule begins when the nights start getting longer."

Lance used to be an occultist, and before that he was a spiritualist. But he's been a follower of paganism for 12 years now, and so he's ideally placed to answer my first simple question: what exactly is paganism?

Turns out that while it may be a simple question, the answer is anything but straightforward.

"It's such an eclectic belief system," he says, "although reference with nature pretty much covers most people's pagan beliefs - no matter where you've come from, most pagans will come back to nature and follow it very very closely.

"Most of us follow the principle 'do what you will, as long as it harms none'. There's a lot of worry out there that we put hexes and spells on people but many pagans - ourselves included - believe that whatever we put out, we get back threefold, and if you believe that, you wouldn't want to get bad things back threefold.

"I won't speak for all, because there are a few pagans who don't follow that rule, but that's not us.

"As for the history, I recently read an article saying paganism has been around for 30,000 years in some form, while the word 'pagan' comes from the Latin pagani, which back then meant 'peasant' and translates now as 'country person'."

That connection with nature is reinforced in two ways: first, by the camp's location, in a field of alder trees (alder being a particularly sacred wood to many pagans), and secondly, through Lance's knowledge of herbalism, which he demonstrates by taking me on a walk along 50 yards or so of roadside and pointing out the useful properties of several plants.

This is the point at which he asks me to give a health warning, so here goes: do not assume that any of the plants about to be mentioned will work for everyone, or will have completely positive effects on any person who tries them, or that any are officially endorsed by the Bute Pagans - or indeed by The Bute-man. Consider yourselves warned!

The list of benefits which can be gained from natural products is, nonetheless, lengthy and fascinating.

The bark of the alder tree can be used to relieve diarrhoea, for example. Then there's the nettle, which besides the stinging properties which just about everybody knows about, is also an an anti-histamine, an anti-coagulant and a mild painkiller. And sticky willies, over a long period of time, are believed to be good for dispelling kidney stones.

Next Lance points out a plant whose leaves, to a townie such as me, look pretty nondescript.

After asking if I have any heart conditions (I don't, by the way), he suggests that I might like to chew on a leaf for a second or two.

On the basis that I'll try anything once, I do so; swallowing is a step too far, but I can immediately detect a distinct, familiar but not at all unpleasant flavour.

Turns out I'm chewing on a ramsons leaf, ramsons also being known as wild garlic, and besides being a very nice addition to any salad, can be good for the respiratory system and the relief of catarrh.

The leaves of a nearby hawthorn tree - long recognised as being good for the health of your heart - aren't quite so palatable: there's a slight nutty tinge to the flavour, but I think I'll stick to the ramsons in future.

Or mint, which is the last of the herbs Lance discovers on our short walk along the roadside and which I instantly recognise from my childhood - even if its aroma is far removed from Trebor's Extra Strong!

My basic herbal education over, it's time for one of the centrepieces of the Litha camp weekend: the ritual depicting the battle mentioned earlier, between the Oak King and the Holly King.

Lance has created a sacred circle in a small clearing in the undergrowth, ringed by small torches marking the compass points of north, east, south and west.

He reassures me that I don't have to do anything I feel uncomfortable with, although as with the wild garlic earlier, I'm quite happy to give it a try, not having seen or heard anything so far which makes me feel even slightly uneasy.

Each participant is invited first to enter the circle, to state their name and to confirm that they come to the circle "with friendship".
Then Lance turns to each of us in turn, asking us to hold out our arms and blessing us with sacred smoke from a small container of burning sage.

He explains why we're all here, and then invites two of those present to depict the battle between the Holly King and the Oak King which is central to the solstice celebrations.

Both are encouraged to give it their all, but as always at this time of year it is the Holly King who emerges triumphant to rule over the land for the next six months.

A sip of wine and a morsel of bread later and the ceremony is brought to a close.

No hysteria, nothing uncomfortable (and no naked dancing or ritual sacrifices either): just a simple, dignified ceremony to mark one of the most important dates in any pagan's calendar.

It doesn't seem that different to the observances of any other religion, and from what I've seen, there's nothing to be scared about, and no reason for anyone to be anything but respectful of the beliefs of those who attended the Litha camp.

I don't think paganism is for me, but that's not because of Bute's pagans; it's more because my outlook on life is not, generally, a particularly religious one.

But if our glimpse behind the scenes helps those of other faiths or
none gain a little bit of understading into paganism - a faith which, at the last estimate, has anything between 50,000 and 200,000 followers across the UK - it will still have been worthwhile.