Sizdah Bedar: experiencing the Persian picnic experience for the first time in the North East

My first Sizdah Bedar

There are moments when a tradition so far from home feels both strange and familiar. This was my first Sizdah Bedar, the Persian celebration on the 13th day after Nowruz. 4,000 miles from H’s homeland, in the woodlands and open spaces of the North East, it was an experience that combined both nature, and reflection.

The 13th day after nowruz

Sizdah Bedar marks the 13th day after the Persian New Year. Tradition dictates that no one remains indoors as the number 13 is considered unlucky. Families head outside, often carrying the sabzeh, the sprouted greens from the Haft-Sin table, to return to water or earth. This symbolic gesture releases the old year’s negativity and welcomes renewal.

Returning the sabzeh

By day thirteen, the sabzeh is thought to have absorbed the household’s negative energy. We took ours to Derwent Valley Country Park and cast it into a running stream. Other families did the same, quietly observing the ritual. Seeing the greenery drift away, I felt the weight of tradition and its enduring ability to connect people across time and distance.

An ancient tradition 

The ritual stretches back to the 6th Century BC and continues to resonate. Young people sometimes tie leaves to the greenery, making wishes for the future. Experiencing this as a first-timer, far from Persia, I felt the quiet endurance of culture and heritage, and how rituals adapt while keeping their core meaning intact.

The Persian picnic

We selected a quiet spot near a tree and accessible paths, laid out rugs and blankets, and unpacked our picnic: ash-e reshte soup, flatbreads, olives, pickled vegetables, rice dishes, and fresh herbs. Cyrus, eight months old, explored the grass, watched shadows shift in the breeze, and observed the flicker of fire. Eating outdoors transformed the meal into a ritual itself, blending sensory experience with the celebration of tradition.

“Holding my child as the sabzeh floated away, I understood how a ritual can carry both memory and hope, grounding us even in unfamiliar surroundings.”

Reflection and connection

Sizdah Bedar is more than a picnic. It is a deliberate pause, a way to reconnect with nature, family, and heritage. Experiencing it for the first time, far from Persia, I felt a sense of continuity and presence: culture stretching across distance, and family traditions quietly passing to the next generation.