Hats off

Mathematicians have announced that they have discovered a 'new' 13 sided shape that they're calling 'The Hat'. 

What's so special about it?

Well, it's an 'aperiodic monotile', which means that this single shape can tile a surface without any translational symmetry, or without its pattern ever repeating. And that was something that, until very recently, had been theorised but never found. 

The monotile was discovered by a multinational research team led by David Smith and Chaim Goodman-Strauss. 

'You’re literally looking for like a one in a million thing. You filter out the 999,999 of the boring ones, then you’ve got something that’s weird, and then that’s worth further exploration,' explains Goodman-Strauss. 'And then by hand you start examining them and try to understand them, and start to pull out the structure. That’s where a computer would be worthless as a human had to be involved in constructing a proof that a human could understand.'

Here's a link to the academic paper, if you fancy it.

Well Dressed

We're getting towards that time of year when people begin to celebrate the return of the light and warmer days. The clocks have gone forward, we've passed the Vernal Equinox and the days are getting longer. Soon, people will be rehearsing for pageants and festivals, and raising the maypoles. Morris sides will be dusting off their bells, cheeses will soon be hurled down precipitous slopes, bogs will be snorkled and Obby Osses teased. 

Come the beginning of May there will be so many things to report on that this blog will become very crowded. So I thought I'd mention a few events and traditions a couple of months early. 

One such is the rather more staid, but no less fascinating, tradition of Well Dressing which usually takes place between May and September in Derbyshire and the Peak District.

Over 80 towns and villages proudly display their floral masterpieces next to wells and water features throughout the Spring and Summer. It's a whole village affair with children and adults alike gathering the moss, beans, seeds, cones, twigs, berries and, most importantly, flower petals which give the pictures their colour and detail. Every new piece begins with a board which is soaked in a local river This is then covered in soft clay in a process called 'puddling'. Then, slowly and methodically, the gathered natural objects are pressed into the clay by experienced 'petallers' using toothpicks and dental tools.

   

The exact origins of Well Dressing have been lost over time, but it’s thought that the custom may have found its start in a pagan ritual of leaving gifts thanking the local water gods for the continued supply of fresh water. Certainly, the Romans or the Celts venerated water and often left voting offerings in wells and springs. Some also claim that it's an ancient custom that was revived in the 17th century when the plague came to the Peak District - many of you will know the story of the heroes of Eyam who isolated and sacrificed themselves to prevent the spread of the disease (there's a nice article on the event here)- but the various holy wells provided safe drinking water. Therefore, they were thanked with a service of blessing thereafter. 

Well Dressings originally featured Biblical scenes but these days can commemorate individuals, historical events or important dates and anniversaries. During the Victorian era the displays became much more extravagent and complex. 

Once in place by the spring or well, the Dressings, typically quite large so that they can be enjoyed from a distance, are blessed by a church official. This marks the start of village celebrations, with parades, maypole dancing and the crowning of a carnival queen and her attendants. It’s a chance for communities to come together and a fun day out for visitors. 

If you're planning a trip to the area, do check first which village is Well Dressing closest to your date of travel. These wonderful works of art are ephemeral and, even after just a week, the petals will start to dull and the clay will crack (I have no idea how they coped in last year's heatwave). Therefore, the many towns and villages stagger their displays throughout the Summer.

There's a useful list of dates here.

The Pope's Coat

I'm sure you've all seen this image which went viral a few days ago.

History, I suspect, will look back on this as a watershed moment. 

Because the image isn't real. It was generated by Artificial Intelligence (AI).

What's extraordinary about the Pope's Puffa is that it fooled so many of us - including a great many experts in photo manipulation and AI. It marks an important moment in time when we, as internet users, can no longer tell fact from fiction. Social commentator and technology reporter Tom Scott calls this 'a new Napster moment'. 

You might recall that when Napster - a file sharing platform - arrived back in 1999, no one gave it much thought. But it went on to spawn a host of similar and ever-more powerful file sharing systems that completely changed the way we bought music and movies. It pretty much killed physical media  and helped to create the download market. Record shops closed. Video and DVD shops closed. And a major source of income for musicians was gone forever. With reduced sales from albums, artists had to make their money from live gigs and sponsorship. So ticket prices went up and we saw the emergence of appearance-based pop - where bands were specifically created from groups of good-looking men and women in order to appeal to advertisers. Then TV shows like X Factor and Pop Idol came along and the manufactured band became mainstream. Then TV shows like The Voice came along so that people who weren't quite as glamorous had a chance to be noticed.

All of that from Napster.

And now the Pope's Coat marks a moment in history that may also signal a seismic change. 

The acceleration of development of AI is extraordinary. Just six months ago, an AI generated image would have fooled no one. This one fooled almost everyone. And the image went viral on the same day that a Scandinavian company announced that they are close to creating an AI 'pilot' that can autonomously drive and control all operations on board container ships. They believe these vessels won't need any crews within a couple of years. And, on the same day, the university I lecture for announced that the owners of the programme we use for marking student assignments is developing an upgrade to include anti-AI software because students are increasingly using systems like Chat-GPT to do the work for them.

Back in December I wrote about my concerns regarding AI (see here). It's not the technology per se that bothers me - it's the use to which it is put. AI is not about developing systems to help humans. It's developing systems to replace humans. And the people throwing the most money into development are doing so in order to put us all out of a job. Why pay a graphic designer or working artist when a computer can do the work for free? Fine artists will continue to create work for an elite and will become an elite themselves, no doubt, but the jobbing artist will be on the dole. And what about all those people who drive for a living? Once the self-driving vehicle is allowed on the road, no one needs to pay or insure drivers anymore. That's an awful lot of unemployed delivery drivers, cabbies, long-distance hauliers, pilots, train drivers (and possibly insurance agents) that the government will suddenly have to house and feed.

More importantly, humans need a sense of purpose, as well as a source of income, in order to be happy and have a decent life. 

If AI takes that all away, what's left?

_________________________________________________

Footnote: 

Shortly after I posted this, it was announced that Elon Musk, Steve Wozniak, Yuval Noah Harari, Andrew Yang and over 150 other tech luminaries have signed a petition calling for a 6-month pause in AI training for 'safety reasons'. You can read the letter here.

Vlog: Miscellaneous Meander #6

Another ramble around my local village green finding spring edibles and musing on the randomness of Nature.

Don't eat the yellow ...

We all know the old adage 'Don't eat yellow snow!'

But how about yellow flowers? 

Springtime brings us an abundance of yellow blooms in our wild fields and meadows. But which can we eat? And which should we avoid?

Here's a handy guide to a few of the most common.

SAFE

Dandelions

A very recognisable wild flower (or tenacious weed if you love your lawn and garden). Hard to mistake for anything else. Every part of the plant is edible and rich in vitamins A, B, C, D and E, as well as inositol and lecithin. The flowers, or their small petals, are a colourful addition to salads - when young they taste slighty sweet like honey but get bitter tasting with age. You can also use them to make a tea, or a jam or a syrup. The same applies to the leaves - best eaten young. The root can be dug up, cleaned and roasted and used to create a substitute for coffee. Or you can use it as a flavouring - Dandelion and Burdock has been a classic soft drink for hundreds of years. Even the seeds are edible - once you separate them from their parachutes. Just one word of caution - they are a diuretic so you shouldn't eat or drink too many. One of its common folk names is Pissabed. Oh, and the name Dandelion is supposedly a corruption of dent de lion or 'lion's tooth' (based on the shape of the leaf barbs).

Primrose 

Here's one that often surprises people. Wild Primroses are perfectly edible. The flowers are refreshing and sweet and the young leaves can be used as a green vegetable or in salads. And the only thing you could really mistake it for is the Cowslip - but they're closely related and are also edible. You might also see pink Primroses - sometimes called Primulas - and they're edible too. Just make sure you know for certain that it is a Primula as some other pink flowers are not so good for you. Stick to the yellow Primroses and you'll be fine.

Gorse 

The flowers and buds are safe to eat raw but they should not be eaten too often or in large quantities as they contain small amounts of toxic alkaloids. The flowers smell of coconut and are quite bitter though you can sometimes taste almonds. They are best used to make a country wine or sparkling 'champagne' like we also do with Elderflower.

NOT SAFE 

Buttercups 

I love to see a meadow of Buttercups - it really is the essence of Spring. And we've all held one up to our chins to 'see if we like butter'. But don't eat them! Sadly, they are toxic. All Buttercup species are poisonous when eaten fresh and can cause bloody diarrhoea, excessive salivation, colic, and severe blistering of the mouth, mucous membranes and gastrointestinal tract. They can also cause skin rashes and dermatitis in some people. The toxins are degraded by drying, so hay containing dried buttercups is safe for animals - they are smart enough not to eat them fresh. But why are they called Buttercups? It's because people once believed that cows ate them which was why their milk produced yellow butter. 

Daffodils

Another easily identifiable and common flower. However, All parts of the daffodil contain a toxic chemical called lycorine. When swallowed, it can cause nausea, vomiting, diarrhoea, and abdominal pain. These symptoms are usually not life threatening and resolve within a few hours. However, back when I was a police officer, I did once attend a death at a house where an older man had eaten Daffodil bulbs in the mistaken belief that they were shallots. And it killed him. The bulb contains the highest levels of lycorine, plus oxalates which are microscopic and needle-like. In his case, his age and failing health had made him more vulnerable. 

Ragwort

I have heard some people say that you could mistake Ragwort for Dandelions but I really don't see how. The flower structure is entirely different and the leaves are lobe-like rather than barb-shaped. However, do get to know this plant because it's very toxic. It's a real problem for farmers because it will kill cattle, horses, deer, sheep, goats, pigs and chickens. The poisonous substances in Ragworts are alkaloids called Jacobine, Jacodine and Jaconine which cause the liver to accumulate copper, causing ill heath and death. However, it's also an important flower for pollinating insects such as the carpenter bee and cinnabar moth, which makes it a divisive plant for land owners. You might say, 'Well, keep the animals and Ragworts separated'. But the big problem with that is that the plant spreads so easily - a single specimen can disperse thousands of seeds into the wind. Meanwhile, the advice for us humans is ...  leave it alone!

These are just six wildflowers chosen because of their colour. There are many other safe edible flowers (Calendula, Borage, Forget-Me-Nots, Cornflowers, Snapdragons etc.). But there are just as many that are toxic - some dangerously so (Foxgloves, Lords and Ladies, Hemlock, Giant Hogweed, Deadly Nightshade etc.).

As always, the best advice I can give is - if you're not 100% sure of identification DON'T EAT IT.

The oldest tree album

Beth Moon, a photographer from San Francisco, has spent the past 14 years searching all over the globe for the world’s oldest trees.

See the whole collection by clicking here.

Vlog: Bonus Birdies

While out walking yesterday I was gobsmacked by the sheer volume and range of songs coming from the hedgerows. 

And I didn't see a single bird!

Put the volume up for the full effect.

Evocabulary

Warning - swear words ahead ... 

A few years ago I read an interesting feature in Nature in which Harvard researchers Erez Lieberman, Jean-Baptiste Michel and Martin A Nowak had applied evolutionary modelling to language. What they discovered is that the English language follows similar patterns to those found in nature.

They have a great 2013 TED talk here:

For example, past-tense irregular verbs are disappearing in direct proportion to the rise of regular verbs - the more succesful 'species' are surviving at the expense of the others. The researchers tracked the status of 177 irregular verbs in Old English through linguistic changes in Middle English and then modern English. Of these 177 verbs that were irregular 1,200 years ago, 145 stayed irregular in Middle English but just 98 remain irregular today. 

Regular past-tense verbs tend to have '-ed' on the end (e.g. sorted, finished, passed, kicked etc.) whereas irregular past-tense verbs have a variety of forms (e.g. got, awoke, began, became etc.). And it seems that words that cannot be regularised by the addition of an '-ed' are falling out of use. Nowak et al cited the example of 'wed' and predicted that 'wedded' will eventually become the norm. So goodbye 'newly wed' and hello 'newly wedded'. The researchers also suggested that a verb used 100 times less frequently will be made extinct 10 times as fast. So, as 'wed' is barely used these days, it will become 'wedded' that much quicker. I checked the Oxford English Dictionary today and it says that 'wed' can be the past tense of 'wed'. However, Webster’s New World College Dictionary - the one followed by Associated Press and many news organisations, lists only 'wedded' for the simple past tense. 

Image: Pixabay

The English language is the most successful language on this planet. It is infinitely flexible, can borrow from other languages, and can evolve into new forms (American English, Indian English etc.) without losing meaning. It cna be spleled bdaly and sitll be udnertsood. It does not suffer the complications of gender and multiple conjugations and has a simple (though it could be simpler) alphabet of just 26 letters. However, being a mongrel language, various spelling oddities have crept in throughout history meaning that we've been left with some bizarre pronunciations like 'rough', 'initial' and 'sword' that bear little relation to the letters used. I'm told by non-Brit chums that it's an easy language to learn to speak but much harder to learn to write. 

And then there are the so-called 'Rules of English'. Like any rules, these are regularly bent, broken and beaten to within an inch of their lives. 

Let's take a common example - I before E except after C. 

Really? What about species? Or sufficient? Or science (and why is there a C in science anyway?)? And there are plenty of words that don't have 'I before E' such as neighbour, weigh, eight, vein ... 

The truth is that many of these 'rules' were invented by 19th century grammarians who desperately wanted their home-grown language to be as pure as the divine Latin. Sadly, this was never going to work in a language that can count among its ancestors not only Latin but Greek, Turkish, Indian, the Celtic tongues, Eastern-European languages etc. Which is why rules like 'You cannot split an infinitive' are nonsense. 

In Latin, the infinitive form of a word is 'unbound' - free of all descriptors or modifications. Hence, it doesn't really convey much information e.g. amare (to love), monere (to warn), ducere (to lead), audire (to hear) etc. So you cannot physically split an infinitive in Latin because it normally consists of a single word. However, in English, an infinitive invariably consists of two words, the first usually being 'to' (e.g. to go, to do, to play). So why can't we split an infinitive? Trust me, it's perfectly safe and acceptable to do so. To accidentally stumble. To loudly applaud. To boldly go where no one has gone before. Kirk did it. Picard did it. So can you. 

Image: Nothing Ahead on Pexels.

And the idea that you cannot start a new sentence with a conjunction is also rubbish. I did it just then. And again. And again! It's perfectly okay to start a sentence with words like 'and' or 'but'. The Bible does it. Shakespeare did it. Dickens did it. The fact that your primary school teacher got all eggy about it is neither here nor there. She simply didn't want to read 30 essays that sounded like this:

'For my summer holidays we went to Devon. And we went on the beach. And we rided on a donkey. And we had an ice cream. And my daddy got drunk. And my mummy hitted him with a deck chair.'

Incidentally, when children are learning to speak, they automatically create regular verbs like 'rided' and 'hitted'. We instinctively look for patterns and children make predictions based upon them. So is it any wonder these forms are on the increase? 

I like this evolutionary model of language. I like the fact that new words enter the language every year and obsolete words vanish. Why keep a word if no one uses it? Yes, they are fascinating linguistic fossils and provide some entertainment (and good Scrabble scores). But that's it. If no one groaks or chantepleures or acts like a parnel or a lapling any more, then why keep these words on life-support? Switch the machine off and move on. There are plenty more words in the dictionary and even more on the horizon. 

All of which brings me to swearing. When I was a young man, I was told that there were only two obscene words in the language: 'The F word' and 'The C word'. The fact that the words themselves were only ever described in such a coded form just made them even more taboo it seemed to me. But why? Why did these two words - just two different combinations of four letters - why did they become so bad? How did they accrue such a taboo status? Well, the story is long and confused and it would take an entire books to cover it. Suffice to say that it's onl;y been in relatively recent human history that they've got themselves a bad name. And it's completely undeserved. So I like the fact that they are slowly being normalised by their inclusion in books, TV and film. L like the fact that Eve Ensler is reclaiming the word cunt for womanhood by extolling its virtues in her Vagina Monologues; even to the extent of getting the audience to shout it out loud. And national tresure Stephen Fry makes a valid point about the word fuck in his book Paperweight: 

'If school teachers describing animals talked about the way in which they fucked rather than 'the mating process', if barristers and judges used 'fuck' in court cases where penetration is an issue, instead of relying on those strange forensic phrases 'intimate contact' and 'physical relationship', if parents used it when explaining reproduction to their children, then a generation would grow up for whom the word held no more mysterious guilty terrors and strange dirty thrills than the word 'omelette'. What would that do to the sex crime statistics? Were we to have taboos about the word 'kill' or the words 'maim' and 'torture', however, it might perhaps be healthy: cruelty and homicide are things we really should be ashamed of.' 

Image by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels. 

The English language is a joy; possibly the greatest invention of the British peoples. But the reason it is so successful is that it has been allowed to evolve. It's never at rest long enough to become stagnant. Language is all about the communication of concepts, information and emotion. So I'm naturally against anything that dumbs the language down or makes it less accurate for conveying information. So let's rid ourselves of ridicualous business jargon which appears to be designed solely for the purpose of obscuring simple concepts with a hedge of words. Recent examples I've discovered include community property (a jointly-owned home), skills ecosystem, trending over, and anything that includes the word solutions. I'm sorry but 'Farming Machinery Solutions' means exactly the same thing as 'Farming Equipment' when it comes to describing what your company supplies.

And, at the same time, let's welcome terms like pimped, deepfake, and stoozing (the practice of borrowing money from a credit card during the card's introductory no-interest period and then investing that money to earn the interest as a profit) and let's celebrate clever new words and terms like hasbian (a lesbian who has become heterosexual), groomzilla, multi-dadding, surgiholic and duppie (a person who once had a high-status or high-paying job and must now work in a menial or lower paying job). They enrich and empower the language. 

We want our language to be the cheeky mongrel that enjoys robust health and long life, as opposed to the in-bred pedigree that can only look forward to medical complications, crossed-eyes and an early death. Bear in mind David Crystal's words in the Cambridge Encyclopaedia of the English Language: 

 'Vocabulary is the Everest of a language'. 

Let's stay at the top, eh?

Oh, and if you're fascinated by our language like I am, I highly recommend the RobWords Youtube channel (click here). Here's a sample of his goodies:

Vlog: Pug attempts to drink entire meadow

Things are a little waterlogged right now.

I've mentioned before that the 42 acres of village green that we have near to where I live are managed by a trust. And just recently they've dug a long trench to help prevent the run-off from neighbouring farm fields flooding our meadows. 

I'm not sure what gets spread on the fields in terms of fertiliser and weedkiller but the yellowed foam that forms in the slower areas of the trench don't look too healthy to me. 

I probably won't let the pug drink out of these puddles ...

Meanwhile here's a new Miscellaneous Meander video.

The Tichborne Dole (and Curse)

Today is the day of the Tichborne Dole - one of the longest established charity doles in the UK. 

The story goes that, back in the 12th century, Lady Mabella made a deathbed request that she should be able to leave a charitable bequest of land to provide flour for the needy locals. Her husband Sir Roger said that she could have all the land that she could walk around while carrying a single burning brand from the fire. He didn’t expect that she would encircle 23 acres before the flame expired but as the lady also cursed anyone who interfered with the annual dole, he didn’t dare to refuse her request. 

The one time that the family did not obey her dying request, the monor house began to crumble. Therefore, the family never failed to observe the dole ever again - even during WWII and the period of rationing that followed. Not even the Covid pandemic stopped the dole - the event couldn't take place at the house but flour was distributed privately and under strict distancing and hygiene rules.

   

Today locals are still entitled to claim a gallon of flour per head from outside Tichborne House on March 25th - the Dole is always on 25th regardless of which day of the week it falls upon.

The flour is blessed by a Priest and distributed from a large wooden bin. It’s a condition of the lease of the house that any tenant must continue the custom.

The Witchless Witch's Cross

Here's an odd little tale that's fascinated me for over half a century ...

When I was a lad living in Penzance we'd often have weekend family days when Dad would drive us out to some remote part of Penwith for a good walk. One such place was Drift Reservoir and Dam and he would tell us about the sunken village under the water (which I wrote about here). He was always full of interesting stories and old folklore.

Other popular spots included Marazion beach with its views out to St Michaels Mount, or a walk across the moors near Madron to see Lanyon Quoit (here) and the Mên-an-Tol (here), or to visit the Merry Maidens stone circle (here) or the dramatic cliffs and old mine workings at Botallack.

Occasionally we would take the A30 road out to Sennen or Lands End (before it became so commercialised) and we'd pass through a small hamlet called Crows-An-Wra. Dad would always delight in telling us that the name meant 'The Witch's Cross'. He also liked to point out (probably because of his local knowledge - he was a police officer in the area), that Crows-An-Wra had only 13 houses. When questioned further, he told us that the village got its name because a witch was buried at the crossroads. 

Crows-An-Wra is an old settlement sitting in the parish of St Buryan. The oldest house still standing is the 17th century Grade II listed Haydon Cottage built by blacksmith William Haydon. He was born in the village in 1625 but died in London in 1666 in the Great Fire. The hamlet developed with the local mines of West Wheal Rissick, Wheal Lovell, and West Wheal Margaret, which in the mid-19th century produced high grade tin. 

Photo from 1906

And the name of the village does indeed translate as 'witch's cross' or 'witch's crossing' although some scholars suggest it's  a corruption of 'white cross' (why they think this I don't know - the Cornish for white is gwynn). There is evidence that the site was important in Neolithic times and it's not far from Carn Euny - an early Iron Age village site - and Boscawen-Un Stone Circle. There are also barrows at nearby Brane and Creeg Tol, a Holy Well, and a standing stone at Pridden. It's also not too far from the Holy Wells at Madron and Sancreed and their associated 'witch trees' (I wrote about them here).

Crows-An-Wra also boasts an old Wayside Cross - perhaps even the one in the village's name. These types of crosses were erected during the mediaeval period, mostly from the 9th to 15th centuries CE. In addition to reinforcing the Christian faith amongst those who passed by, these crosses also acted as waymarkers, especially in wilder rural areas. Many were placed along regularly used routes linking small settlements or on routes that led back to a religious site. This particular cross marks one of several routes radiating out from the church at St Buryan village - once the site of a major Celtic monastery traditionally thought to have been founded by Athelstan in the early 10th century. 

For these reasons Wayside Crosses contribute significantly to our understanding of medieval religious customs, mediaeval travel and settlement patterns.  

Over 350 Wayside Crosses are known nationally but they are mostly found in Cornwall and on Dartmoor where they form the commonest type of stone cross. Outside Cornwall almost all Wayside Crosses take the form of a `Latin' cross, in which the cross-head itself is within the projecting arms of an unenclosed cross. In Cornwall the commonest type includes a round, or `wheel', head with the spaces between the cross arms sometimes pierced. 

However, the oddest thing to note about the village is that there doesn't seem to be a witch! I can find no historical explanation of the name despite looking through all of my books on Cornish history and folklore (and, believe me, I have a lot of them).

But at least what Dad told us about witches being buried at crossroads is true.

Murderers, suicidees and witches were often buried at a crossroads. Historians and archaeologists have long speculated on the reasons why. Perhaps it was the nearest resting place the deceased would get to any sort of religious symbol? Or maybe it was simply that no one wanted to pay for their burials and the land belonged to no one. Or it may have been because executions were commonly staged at crossroads. For example, the old 'Tyburn Tree' gallows in London stood at the crossroads of Edgware Road and Oxford Street (where Marble Arch stands now) and this sort of placement was quite commonplace. Whatever the reason, crossroads burials were abolished by an act of parliament in 1823. Few objected although, rather insenstively, some did suggest that the 'disgrace' of a crossroads burial might be a deterrent to suicide. I'm pleased to be able to say that we take a more enlightened and supportive view of mental health these days.

There are a number of tales of ghosts that rose from crossroads burials to seek revenge on the living. These stories were often quite lurid and terrifying and so, in many cases, stakes were driven through the corpses to keep the dead in their place. In 1760, murderer and suicidee David Stirn was dissected before being buried with a stake through his torso at a crossroads near the Black Mary’s Hole area of Clerkenwell, London. Meanwhile there are also stories about the trees that are often found growing at a  crossroads. Some people claimed that they grew from the stakes driven into the bodies and that the resulting wood - often Ash - was said to have magical properties or, in some stories, was cursed.

But there are no such stories - that I can find - from Crows-An-Wra. Therefore, we'll probably never know the truth. Burial records are almost non-existent for crossroads because they didn’t take place on church land. Perhaps I should create a story about the witch myself?

However the St Buryan area, in which Crows-An-Wra can be found, does have a modern day witch. 

Officially.

Cassandra Latham-Jones was the first person in the UK allowed to use the term 'Village Witch' when she filed her returns with the Inland Revenue. The self-employed wisewoman has been a working witch for the village of St Buryan for several decades and even write off certain expenses as tax deductible – including ingredients for her various magical brews. Formerly she was a counsellor and trained nurse and worked as a carer for the late Rowena Cade, creator of the fantastic Minack Theatre at Porthcurno. Cassandra's website is here and her blog is fascinating.

Meanwhile, the name of this tiny hamlet of 13 houses has spawned the name of a beer brewed by the Penzance Brewing Company, and a progressive post-hardcore punk band.

They are quite loud enough to wake the dead ...

Kissing trees

A short while ago I wrote a couple of blogposts about conjoined trees (see here and here). 

So I was fascinated to see this extraordinary photograph on Facebook yesterday.

The image is by photographer Pósa Tamás. 

As Wikipedia explains:

'When branches or roots of different trees are in prolonged intimate contact, they often abrade each other, exposing their inner tissues, which may eventually fuse. This process is called inosculation, a natural phenomenon in which trunks, branches or roots of two trees grow together. It is biologically similar to grafting and such trees are referred to in forestry as gemels, from the Latin word meaning "a pair."

The term is derived from the Latin root osculari - 'to kiss into/inward/against'.

Inosculation is most common for branches of two trees of the same species to grow together, though it can be found across related species. The branches first grow separately in proximity to each other until they touch. At this point, the bark on the touching surfaces is gradually abraded away as the trees move in the wind. Once the cambium of two trees touches, they sometimes self-graft and grow together as they expand in diameter. Inosculation customarily results when tree limbs are braided or pleached (interwoven).' 

So now we know.

A Folk Sampler #4

It's been a while since I've included any folk music here so let's fix that today. First up, we have the darlings of the Outer Hebrides - Peat and Diesel.

   

And from the Inner Hebrides we have the stomping trance-folk of Peatbog Fairies:

   

Staying in Scotland but moving to a more traditional sound we come to the wonderful Daimh:

   

And let's finish today's selection with the fantastic voice and guitar skills of Nic Jones:

   

A night out with the witches

Yesterday evening I went to a local pagan meet. 

I've been to meetings with this group a number of times before. They are held on or near to the eight main festivals or sabbats that mark the Wheel of the Year (see here). Last night we were celebrating Ostara. 

The group consists of people - mostly women - who engage in a a mix of disciplines and interests. There are followers of the Old Craft, Wiccans and Fae Witches, Druids and Coveners, Hedge Witches, Shamans and other Neo-Pagans as well as astrologers, dowsers, herbalists and Mediums. But they all share the same deep reverence for Nature, and a desire for peace, contentment and equality. It's a lovely welcoming group and they've made me feel very much a part of their meetings, despite the fact that I am less a spiritual person than they are. Right upfront at my first meet I told them that I'm a folklorist, forager and writer and that I am sceptical about some of their beliefs. They welcomed me in anyway. 

Imagine if the world was run like that - where everyone's views are respected and where discussion is open, honest and doesn't descend into opinionated argument.

Last night's Ostara altar 

Each session is very educational. The leader of the group usually starts with a short prayer and the closing of a circle of protection around us. Then we get a talk on the history of the particular festival we're celebrating. This is followed by a short astrological forecast by one of the Shamanic members. Then we learn about a handful of different plants and trees and animal behaviours that are associated with this time of year. Last night we discussed Yarrow and Willow, hares and bird nesting and more. 

We usually also discuss a particular area of magick - spelled with a 'K' to distinguish it from the David Copperfield and Penn and Teller type magic - and last night we talked about mirrors. People have used them for thousands of years for divination (scrying), spell casting and glamouring, and in the belief that mirrors can focus the will and intensify enerrgy. And there is a surprising amount of mirror lore evident in everyday modern life. People still say that breaking a mirror will give you seven years of bad luck. Some people still cover mirrors after a person's death based on an ancient idea that the deceased's soul will be trapped inside. And one of the more famous superstitions is that your reflection is an image of your soul - which is why vampires are said to be reflection-free. The history is all quite fascinating. 

They are a refreshingly pragmatic group - they are not prey to the 'fashionable' side of witchcraft with its Etsy and Amazon product ranges. Nor are they interested in cosplay or having Youtube or Tiktok channels. And, when it comes to spells, they're remarkably realistic. Very few of them cast spells - they're more concerned with harmony, balance and inner peace. And, as the group's leader said last night, 'Spells are always a last resort. But, even then, you have to be realistic - no matter how many spells you cast you ain't gonna be a brain surgeon if you failed GCSE Biology.'

Following a silent meditation for a few minutes during which we were guided by a narrator to imagine walking in a forest and finding a clear space to sit and be calm, we had tea and home-made cakes - including an amazing Simnel Cake - and then a practical session. In the past this has included things like candle-making and traditional corn dolly craft. Last night we had Willow withies with which to make wreaths featuring Summer crosses, Pentagrams and other hanging decorations. The circle is then opened and we head off home. 

As I say, I'm not a believer in spells and ghosts and astrology. But I am deeply interested in folklore, folk tradition and understanding how to live more closely alongside Nature and the seasons. 

And these wonderfully kind and knowledgeable people talk a lot more sense to me than any politician or business guru.

A Full Moon by any other name ...

On yesterday's blogpost about Ostara (see here) I posted a list of the names given to the different Full Moons throughout the year. The list was taken from the Royal Observatory (Greenwich) website and it caused a bit of a stir. As one person asked me, 'Why do we use American names like Beaver Moon and Sturgeon Moon?' 

It was a good question. So I did some research. And it turns out that they're not quite as American as they look ...

It appears that some names were actually brought to America by European settlers. One such is Wolf Moon. What we sometimes forget is that we did once have native wolves, bears and beavers here in the UK. It's estimated that there are still at least 17,000 wild wolves spread across 28 countries in Europe and Scandinavia (excluding European Russia). So that's why we call it a Wolf Moon and not, as some Native Americans do, a Coyote Moon.

That said, the new American colonists did adopt some names from the indigenous First Peoples and these have, over time, became the popular names adopted by Neo-Pagans during the late 20th century surge in interest in Shamanism and the 'New Age'.

But they are not the only names we could use, of course.

Photo by Ganapathy Kumar on Unsplash.

January's Wolf Moon is also known as the Old Moon or Ice Moon. Some of the Celtic peoples of Britain called it the Stay Home Moon or Quiet Moon. The Anglo-Saxons called it the Moon After Yule. 

February's Snow Moon is also known as the Bear Moon or Hungry Moon in North America. Here in the UK, Snow Moon is also used, along with Storm Moon or Hunger Moon.

March's Worm Moon can also be called the Crust Moon or Sap Moon. The Anglo-Saxons called it the Lenten Moon and the Celts referred to it as the Wind Moon or Plough Moon. In Old English, it was known as the Death Moon and the Chaste Moon referring to the purity of the Spring season.

April's Pink Moon is also known as the Sprouting Grass Moon or Fish Moon. The Anglo-Saxons called it the Egg Moon, and the Celts had names like Budding Moon, New Shoots Moon, Seed Moon and Growing Moon. Some Neo-Pagans refer to it as the Awakening Moon.

May has the Flower Moon AKA the Corn Planting Moon. The Anglo-Saxon name was Milk Moon, while the Celtic and Old English names were Mothers’ Moon, Bright Moon, Hare Moon, or Grass Moon. 

June's Strawberry Moon is also known as the Rose Moon or Hot Moon. The Celtic nations variously called it the Mead Moon, Horse Moon, Dyan (Divine) Moon, or Planting Moon. 

Photo by Sierra NiCole Narvaeth on Unsplash.

July sees the arrival of the Buck Moon or Hay Moon. In the UK it is known varioulsy as the Claiming Moon, Wyrt (herb or spice) Moon, Fruit Moon or Mead Moon. 

August is the Sturgeon Moon or Red Moon or Green Corn Moon. The Celts called it the Dispute Moon or Lynx Moon, and the Anglo-Saxons the Grain Moon or Lightning Moon. 

September is known as the Full Corn Moon, Barley Moon, Wine Moon or Song Moon, but is often referred to on both sides of the Atlantic as the Harvest Moon. It's the Full Moon nearest to the Autumn Equinox (which is usually in September).The light of the Harvest Moon enabled farmers to work late into the night, helping them to bring in the crops from the fields. 

October. The Hunter's Moon is also known as the Travel Moon or Dying Grass Moon. The Celts used Seed Fall Moon to describe it but it can also be called the Blood Moon or Sanguine Moon. It's the time of year when the hunters were busiest and when domestic farm animals were slaughtered so that meat could be stocked up for the long Winter months. There may also have been an element of sacrifice involved. The term 'Blood Moon' is also sometimes used to describe the appearance of the Moon during a total lunar eclipse when the Earth's shadow falls across it.

November is also known as the Beaver Moon or Frost Moon. In Celtic tradition, it was called the Mourning Moon or Darkest Depths Moon. 

December's Full Moon is the Cold Moon. The Old English and Anglo-Saxon names are the Moon Before Yule or the Long Night Moon, referring to the longest night of the year in the Northern Hemisphere - the December solstice. The Celts called it the Oak Moon or the Full Cold Moon. 

So take your pick!

Photo by Malith D Karunarathne on Unsplash.

And, in addition to these twelve, there is sometimes a Blue Moon which, as the name suggests, doesn't happen often. The Moon completes 12 full cycles of its phases in about 354 days – which is 11 days short of a calendar year. Therefore, every two and a half years or so, the difference adds up to an extra 13th Full Moon occurring somewhere during the year. That's a Blue Moon, although no one seems to know why we call it that. 

And we do have a Blue Moon in August this year. The dates of the Full Moons are:

January 6th.

February 5th.

March 7th.

April 6th. 

May 5th.

June 4th.

July 3rd.

August 1st.

August 31st.

September 23rd.

October 28th.

November 27th.

December 27th.

Interesting, eh?

Photo by Frank Cone on Pexels.

But that's not the full story.

I've only looked at the Northern Hemisphere and only really at the UK and the USA. Eastern Europe has its own traditions, as do the Scandinavian countries and Asia.

In Sri Lanka, the Full Moon is called Poya and each Moon has its own name and a dedicated holiday. Listed here in the order January to December: Duruthu Poya, Navam Poya, Madin Poya, Bak Poya, Vesak Poya, Poson Poya, Esala Poya, Nikini Poya, Binara Poya, Vap Poya, Ill Poya, and Unduvap Poya.

Meanwhile, the Māoris of New Zealand follow a lunar calendar called the Maramataka. It starts in May and the months are called Pipiri, Hongonui, Here-turi-kōkā, Mahuru, Whiringa-ā-nuku, Whiringa-ā-rangi, Hakihea, Kohi-tātea, Hui-tanguru, Poutū-te-rangi, Paenga-whāwhā, and Haratua. 

There's a whole book to be written here ... and, speaking of books, it would be remiss of me not to give another mention to one of my favourite books this year - Kevin Parr's excellent The Quiet Moon in which he follows the Moon's annual cycles through a calendar year (see my review here).

Is that enough mooning for you?.

Glorious Yellows

Yellow is the colour of Spring with yellow Crocuses and Daffodils in abundance. And soon we'll see the Dandelions and Buttercups, Primroses and Ragworts. It's sunshine brought down to Earth and I love it.

It won't be long before the fields and meadows near my home look like this once again and I can't wait.

Costumes by Edie Morris

I was watching the TV series Jonathan Ross' Myths and Legends last night and the second episode, set in Wales, featured a visit to the 2022 Green Man Festival. 

During the course of this, Ross met a costume and set designer called Edith 'Edie' Morris. She'd made some 'walk about' costumes for the event, which also feature in a video (and on an album cover) by Welsh band Melin Melyn. The costumes were amazing and represented a number of Celtic characters including a Cornish Chough, the Welsh lake monster known as the Afanc, Bwcas, the sea monster known as the Cirein-cròin and others.

And here's the video and album cover for Melin Melyn (their name means 'Yellow Mill'):

   

Edie's website is here.

Melin Melyn are on Bandcamp here.