The folklore of the hedgerow.
Folklore is in constant flux, it is made up of the stories of the community who in the past were mostly illiterate. Dependent upon hearing, seeing, imitating and remembering, it is the knowledge passed down by those who have gone before, the‘tradition
bearers’. As we say in Irish“ó ghlúin go glúin” (from knee to knee). It is part of our cultural heritage. On this page you will find stories concerning the creatures of the hedgerow.
bearers’. As we say in Irish“ó ghlúin go glúin” (from knee to knee). It is part of our cultural heritage. On this page you will find stories concerning the creatures of the hedgerow.
Bumblebee nest.
Bumblebee. Bumbóg.
Buff-Tailed Bumblebee nests can be found in the hedgerows, this one was found in the hedgerow outside our cottage in Gortaroe, Westport. The bees may be seen coming and going through a hole in the ground. The nest will be hard to see as bees are very private individuals but if you listen carefully you can hear them buzzing away quite happily.
Sometimes the Queen may decide to occupy an old abandoned mouse nest as these are usually warm and well insulated. She may also nest underneath sheds, decking, in compost bags, in hedge clippings or even in attics or under floor boards. You could move a nest if it was causing you problems but it may not fully recover therefore leave it alone if it is doing you no harm. Like all bumblebees, they need to be greatly provoked before they sting.
As bees are becoming victim to an ever changing world that threatens their habitat you can do your bit to help them
survive. Plant suitable flowers in your garden, window boxes, containers or even along the hedgerow. Provide a nest box, these are now becoming increasingly available in any good garden centre or make your own, they are very easy and you can Google plans. Remember they are a gardener’s friend and we need bees to pollinate our plants.
There is a superstition that if a bumblebee buzzes at the window it is a sign of a coming visitor.
A servant girl was standing at the kitchen window, in flew a bumblebee ‘Oh!’ she said, ‘a visitor is coming! Has the bee got a red tail or white? Red for a man and white for a lady’.
Irish folklore tells us how easily the bees take offence and this will cause them to cease producing honey, desert their hives and die. You must treat them as you would a member of your own family. They must be told all the news, in particular births, deaths and marriages. In the event of a death their hive must be adorned with a black cloth or ribbon and they must be given their share of the funeral food. You may then hear them gently hum in contentment and they will stay with you.
Other beliefs were that if the bees heard you quarrelling or swearing they would leave so you must talk to them in a gentle
manner. They cannot tolerate the presence of a woman of loose morals or one that was menstruating but would sting her and drive her away (sounds like Christian influence here). You must never buy bees with normal money, only with gold coin although you may obtain them through gift, loan or barter. It was also believed that if a single bee entered your house it was a sign of good luck on the way, usually in the form of wealth.
When bees swarmed, it was the women and children of the household that had to follow them, making a noise with pots and
pans. This was supposed to make them settle or maybe it was really just to warn people to get out of the way? It was accepted that in these circumstances you could follow them onto someone else’s land without being accused of trespassing. The law on bees (Brehon Law) was that bees taking nectar from plants growing on your neighbours land were guilty of grazing trespass in the same way a cow or sheep would be if they were on your neighbours land. They could even be accused of leaping trespass in the same way as poultry. The way this law was observed was that a beekeeper was allowed three years of freedom during which time the bees were allowed free reign, on the fourth year the first swarm to issue from the hive had to be given to your neighbour as payment. On the following years other swarms were given in turn to other neighbours, in this way everyone was
happy. From all accounts it seemed to work. Another issue the Bechbretha (Law governing bees) was enacted was in the event of stings. As long as you swore you had not retaliated by killing the bee you would be entitled to a meal of honey from the bee keeper. However if the unfortunate person died from a sting then two hives had to be paid in compensation to their family.
It was a bad omen if a swarm settled on a dead branch for it meant death for someone in the bee keeper’s family or for the
person who witnessed the swarm settling. Popular folklore also suggested that bee stings aide in the relief of arthritis and rheumatism in much the same way as nettle stings and recently bee venom has been revived as a possible treatment for multiple sclerosis.
In Celtic myth, bees were regarded as beings of great wisdom and as spirit messengers between worlds. Honey was treated as a magical substance and used in many rituals. It was made into mead and was considered to have prophetic powers and it may have been this that was called ‘nectar of the gods’. The rivers that lead to the summer lands are said to be rivers of mead.
“Telling the Bees” was extremely important, whether good news or bad or just everyday gossip. As stated earlier you had to
tell the bees about a death in the family or the bees would die too. Bad news was given before sunrise of the following day for all to be well. You may even formally invite the bees to attend the funeral or you could turn the beehives round as the coffin was carried out of the house and past the hives. In ancient European folklore, bees were regarded as messengers of the gods and so the custom of “Telling the Bees” may be a throwback to the idea of keeping the gods informed of human affairs.
Trembling, I listened: The summer sun
Had the chill of snow;
For I knew she was telling the bees of one
Gone on the journey we must all go!
And the song she was singing ever since
In my ear sounds on:
‘Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence!
Mistress Mary is dead and gone!
Extract from “Telling the Bees” by John
Greenleaf Whittier.
Buff-Tailed Bumblebee nests can be found in the hedgerows, this one was found in the hedgerow outside our cottage in Gortaroe, Westport. The bees may be seen coming and going through a hole in the ground. The nest will be hard to see as bees are very private individuals but if you listen carefully you can hear them buzzing away quite happily.
Sometimes the Queen may decide to occupy an old abandoned mouse nest as these are usually warm and well insulated. She may also nest underneath sheds, decking, in compost bags, in hedge clippings or even in attics or under floor boards. You could move a nest if it was causing you problems but it may not fully recover therefore leave it alone if it is doing you no harm. Like all bumblebees, they need to be greatly provoked before they sting.
As bees are becoming victim to an ever changing world that threatens their habitat you can do your bit to help them
survive. Plant suitable flowers in your garden, window boxes, containers or even along the hedgerow. Provide a nest box, these are now becoming increasingly available in any good garden centre or make your own, they are very easy and you can Google plans. Remember they are a gardener’s friend and we need bees to pollinate our plants.
There is a superstition that if a bumblebee buzzes at the window it is a sign of a coming visitor.
A servant girl was standing at the kitchen window, in flew a bumblebee ‘Oh!’ she said, ‘a visitor is coming! Has the bee got a red tail or white? Red for a man and white for a lady’.
Irish folklore tells us how easily the bees take offence and this will cause them to cease producing honey, desert their hives and die. You must treat them as you would a member of your own family. They must be told all the news, in particular births, deaths and marriages. In the event of a death their hive must be adorned with a black cloth or ribbon and they must be given their share of the funeral food. You may then hear them gently hum in contentment and they will stay with you.
Other beliefs were that if the bees heard you quarrelling or swearing they would leave so you must talk to them in a gentle
manner. They cannot tolerate the presence of a woman of loose morals or one that was menstruating but would sting her and drive her away (sounds like Christian influence here). You must never buy bees with normal money, only with gold coin although you may obtain them through gift, loan or barter. It was also believed that if a single bee entered your house it was a sign of good luck on the way, usually in the form of wealth.
When bees swarmed, it was the women and children of the household that had to follow them, making a noise with pots and
pans. This was supposed to make them settle or maybe it was really just to warn people to get out of the way? It was accepted that in these circumstances you could follow them onto someone else’s land without being accused of trespassing. The law on bees (Brehon Law) was that bees taking nectar from plants growing on your neighbours land were guilty of grazing trespass in the same way a cow or sheep would be if they were on your neighbours land. They could even be accused of leaping trespass in the same way as poultry. The way this law was observed was that a beekeeper was allowed three years of freedom during which time the bees were allowed free reign, on the fourth year the first swarm to issue from the hive had to be given to your neighbour as payment. On the following years other swarms were given in turn to other neighbours, in this way everyone was
happy. From all accounts it seemed to work. Another issue the Bechbretha (Law governing bees) was enacted was in the event of stings. As long as you swore you had not retaliated by killing the bee you would be entitled to a meal of honey from the bee keeper. However if the unfortunate person died from a sting then two hives had to be paid in compensation to their family.
It was a bad omen if a swarm settled on a dead branch for it meant death for someone in the bee keeper’s family or for the
person who witnessed the swarm settling. Popular folklore also suggested that bee stings aide in the relief of arthritis and rheumatism in much the same way as nettle stings and recently bee venom has been revived as a possible treatment for multiple sclerosis.
In Celtic myth, bees were regarded as beings of great wisdom and as spirit messengers between worlds. Honey was treated as a magical substance and used in many rituals. It was made into mead and was considered to have prophetic powers and it may have been this that was called ‘nectar of the gods’. The rivers that lead to the summer lands are said to be rivers of mead.
“Telling the Bees” was extremely important, whether good news or bad or just everyday gossip. As stated earlier you had to
tell the bees about a death in the family or the bees would die too. Bad news was given before sunrise of the following day for all to be well. You may even formally invite the bees to attend the funeral or you could turn the beehives round as the coffin was carried out of the house and past the hives. In ancient European folklore, bees were regarded as messengers of the gods and so the custom of “Telling the Bees” may be a throwback to the idea of keeping the gods informed of human affairs.
Trembling, I listened: The summer sun
Had the chill of snow;
For I knew she was telling the bees of one
Gone on the journey we must all go!
And the song she was singing ever since
In my ear sounds on:
‘Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence!
Mistress Mary is dead and gone!
Extract from “Telling the Bees” by John
Greenleaf Whittier.
The Hedgehog.
The Hedgehog, also called the Gráinneog in Irish (Little ugly thing).
However it is not a native Irish mammal having been introduced round the 13th century by the Normans.
There are many stories concerning the hedgehog. In the first century, Pliny the Elder, in his Historia Naturalis, told a story about how the hedgehog would climb apple trees, knock the fruit off, and then roll on the apples impaling them on its spikes and carrying them down to their burrows. Now not only do hedgehogs not climb trees but they don’t store food in their burrows either. Although it didn’t stop some people trying to prove he was right (they never succeeded). In ancient Rome, the hedgehog was used to forecast spring. If during hibernation it looks out of its burrow around the start of February and sees its shadow then it meant there was a clear moon and this was believed to herald six more weeks of winter and so it would return to its sleep.
In medieval Britain, farmers believed that hedgehogs stole milk from cows by sucking on them at night, they were even said to be witches in disguise. In 1566, the Elizabethan parliament put a three pence bounty on the head of every hedgehog that was caught and killed. Even the church got involved offering bounties of their own. Hedgehogs certainly enjoy milk and some vets have reported damage to cow’s udders which may have been caused by a hedgehog’s distinctive teeth marks so it wouldappear
that the odd hedgehog has had a nibble. Thousands were slaughtered as a result.
The poor hedgehog was then accused of being egg thieves, now while it’s true they will eat the odd egg; most of these have
already been cracked or damaged. It has been suggested that hedgehogs would actually find it difficult to break open an egg as they don’t have the physical capability. However, thousands more were hunted down and killed as a result of this, a practice which is still carried on today.
The hedgehog has even been considered a food by some people. The common method of cooking is to roll them in clay (spines and all) you then bake it in a fire, once cooked remove the hardened clay taking the spike with it. I know it sounds disgusting but at one time it was believed that eating hedgehogs would cure the sick of a variety of ailments including leprosy, boils and even poor vision. It has been suggested that certain gypsies will still eat hedgehogs as a cure for poisoning and removing evil spells but I cannot swear to this.
In the past folklore says that hedgehog’s can predict a change in the weather (the Roman’s knew this), they were said to alter
the entrance to their burrow accordingly. The hedgehog was also worshipped by some cultures; some thought that a figure representing Mother Earth would take the form of a hedgehog. In particular, they were associated with the Babylonian Goddess Ishtar (also known by her Greek name Asorte) who was the Goddess of love and war. To the ancient Egyptians, the hedgehog symbolised reincarnation because they were said to have interpreted the hedgehog’s hibernation cycle as if it was dying in the autumn and being reborn in the spring.
The hedgehogs, (a story to inspire).
It was the coldest winter ever. Many animals died because of the cold. The hedgehogs, realising the situation, decided to group together to keep warm. This way they covered and protected themselves; but the quills of each one wounded their closest companions. After awhile, they decided to distance themselves one from the other and they began to die, alone and frozen. So they had to make a choice: either accept the quills of their companions or disappear from the Earth. Wisely, they decided to go back to being together. They learned to live with the little wounds caused by the close relationship with their companions in order to receive the heat that came from the others. This way they were able to survive.
The best relationship is not the one that brings together perfect people, but when each individual learns to live with the imperfections of others and can admire the other person's good qualities.
However it is not a native Irish mammal having been introduced round the 13th century by the Normans.
There are many stories concerning the hedgehog. In the first century, Pliny the Elder, in his Historia Naturalis, told a story about how the hedgehog would climb apple trees, knock the fruit off, and then roll on the apples impaling them on its spikes and carrying them down to their burrows. Now not only do hedgehogs not climb trees but they don’t store food in their burrows either. Although it didn’t stop some people trying to prove he was right (they never succeeded). In ancient Rome, the hedgehog was used to forecast spring. If during hibernation it looks out of its burrow around the start of February and sees its shadow then it meant there was a clear moon and this was believed to herald six more weeks of winter and so it would return to its sleep.
In medieval Britain, farmers believed that hedgehogs stole milk from cows by sucking on them at night, they were even said to be witches in disguise. In 1566, the Elizabethan parliament put a three pence bounty on the head of every hedgehog that was caught and killed. Even the church got involved offering bounties of their own. Hedgehogs certainly enjoy milk and some vets have reported damage to cow’s udders which may have been caused by a hedgehog’s distinctive teeth marks so it wouldappear
that the odd hedgehog has had a nibble. Thousands were slaughtered as a result.
The poor hedgehog was then accused of being egg thieves, now while it’s true they will eat the odd egg; most of these have
already been cracked or damaged. It has been suggested that hedgehogs would actually find it difficult to break open an egg as they don’t have the physical capability. However, thousands more were hunted down and killed as a result of this, a practice which is still carried on today.
The hedgehog has even been considered a food by some people. The common method of cooking is to roll them in clay (spines and all) you then bake it in a fire, once cooked remove the hardened clay taking the spike with it. I know it sounds disgusting but at one time it was believed that eating hedgehogs would cure the sick of a variety of ailments including leprosy, boils and even poor vision. It has been suggested that certain gypsies will still eat hedgehogs as a cure for poisoning and removing evil spells but I cannot swear to this.
In the past folklore says that hedgehog’s can predict a change in the weather (the Roman’s knew this), they were said to alter
the entrance to their burrow accordingly. The hedgehog was also worshipped by some cultures; some thought that a figure representing Mother Earth would take the form of a hedgehog. In particular, they were associated with the Babylonian Goddess Ishtar (also known by her Greek name Asorte) who was the Goddess of love and war. To the ancient Egyptians, the hedgehog symbolised reincarnation because they were said to have interpreted the hedgehog’s hibernation cycle as if it was dying in the autumn and being reborn in the spring.
The hedgehogs, (a story to inspire).
It was the coldest winter ever. Many animals died because of the cold. The hedgehogs, realising the situation, decided to group together to keep warm. This way they covered and protected themselves; but the quills of each one wounded their closest companions. After awhile, they decided to distance themselves one from the other and they began to die, alone and frozen. So they had to make a choice: either accept the quills of their companions or disappear from the Earth. Wisely, they decided to go back to being together. They learned to live with the little wounds caused by the close relationship with their companions in order to receive the heat that came from the others. This way they were able to survive.
The best relationship is not the one that brings together perfect people, but when each individual learns to live with the imperfections of others and can admire the other person's good qualities.
The Badger.
The Badger. Broc.
Some people thought that badgers could bring bad luck. This rhyme dates from about
200 years ago:
Should one hear a badger call,
And then an
ullot cry,
Make thy peace with God, good soul,
For thou shall shortly die.
So, according to this bit of folklore, if you hear a badger call, then hear an "Ullot" (an owl) hoot, you are not long for this world
Some people used to say that badgers had legs that were shorter on one side than the other. This was supposed to be because badgers often walked on sloping ground on the sides of hills.
Another 200-year-old story says that badgers - like black cats - can bring bad luck or good luck. If the badger walks across the path that you have just walked on, you are in for very good luck. However, if the badger walks across the path in front of you, and if it happens to scrape up a bit of earth as it goes, then it is time for you to choose your coffin! The old rhyme goes like this:
Should a badger cross the path
Which thou
hast taken, then
Good luck is thine, so it be said
Beyond the luck of men.
But if it cross in front of thee,
Beyond
where thou shalt tread,
And if by chance doth turn the mould,
Thou art
numbered with the dead.
Their hair is used in the making of shaving brushes and also for artists brushes.
This animal is unyielding in the face of danger and is noted for its tenacity and courage.
The badger was an animal that was always favoured by the gambling fraternity. If you wear a Badgers tooth around your neck you will be lucky in whatever you gamble on especially cards.
Highlanders in Scotland, on the other hand, had rather more regard for the badger, admiring its strength and tough hide. Badger faces were used to cover sporran’s, badger teeth employed as buttons, and even badger penises given as fertility charms to bridegrooms from brides' fathers.
Badger fat was used for cooking and also rubbing on the chest as a cure for rheumatism.
Henry Smith, author of 'The Master Book of Poultry and Game', which was published shortly after the end of World War Two, declares "the flesh can be treated as young pig in every respect, it being just as rich and having the flavour of a young pig".
In the middle of the 20th century they were thought to be the carrier of tuberculosis, which was subsequently transmitted to cattle. Their persecution was relentless and their numbers in Ireland dipped as a result. Protection was afforded to badgers in the 1970s and since then their numbers have started to recover.
Their home, referred to as a ‘set’, is a complicated tunnel construction where the female or ‘sow’ raises up to three cubs each year during February or March. A Badger set can be as much as twenty metres long and be several metres below the surface.
The Badger (Broc) connects to perseverance, along with the patience and persistence this requires. He is considered self-reliant, determined, assertive and willing to work, with an earthy wisdom. Brocan was a name for Pictish wise men.
That said, the Badger was not always treated with respect - the game 'Badger in the Bag' started, according to legend, with
the celtic hero Pwyll tricking a rival into a bag and each of his men having a turn at kicking the supposed 'badger' he had trapped. Bagging badgers before dealing with them (or indeed baiting them) also has to do with their aggression and fighting skills
Some people thought that badgers could bring bad luck. This rhyme dates from about
200 years ago:
Should one hear a badger call,
And then an
ullot cry,
Make thy peace with God, good soul,
For thou shall shortly die.
So, according to this bit of folklore, if you hear a badger call, then hear an "Ullot" (an owl) hoot, you are not long for this world
Some people used to say that badgers had legs that were shorter on one side than the other. This was supposed to be because badgers often walked on sloping ground on the sides of hills.
Another 200-year-old story says that badgers - like black cats - can bring bad luck or good luck. If the badger walks across the path that you have just walked on, you are in for very good luck. However, if the badger walks across the path in front of you, and if it happens to scrape up a bit of earth as it goes, then it is time for you to choose your coffin! The old rhyme goes like this:
Should a badger cross the path
Which thou
hast taken, then
Good luck is thine, so it be said
Beyond the luck of men.
But if it cross in front of thee,
Beyond
where thou shalt tread,
And if by chance doth turn the mould,
Thou art
numbered with the dead.
Their hair is used in the making of shaving brushes and also for artists brushes.
This animal is unyielding in the face of danger and is noted for its tenacity and courage.
The badger was an animal that was always favoured by the gambling fraternity. If you wear a Badgers tooth around your neck you will be lucky in whatever you gamble on especially cards.
Highlanders in Scotland, on the other hand, had rather more regard for the badger, admiring its strength and tough hide. Badger faces were used to cover sporran’s, badger teeth employed as buttons, and even badger penises given as fertility charms to bridegrooms from brides' fathers.
Badger fat was used for cooking and also rubbing on the chest as a cure for rheumatism.
Henry Smith, author of 'The Master Book of Poultry and Game', which was published shortly after the end of World War Two, declares "the flesh can be treated as young pig in every respect, it being just as rich and having the flavour of a young pig".
In the middle of the 20th century they were thought to be the carrier of tuberculosis, which was subsequently transmitted to cattle. Their persecution was relentless and their numbers in Ireland dipped as a result. Protection was afforded to badgers in the 1970s and since then their numbers have started to recover.
Their home, referred to as a ‘set’, is a complicated tunnel construction where the female or ‘sow’ raises up to three cubs each year during February or March. A Badger set can be as much as twenty metres long and be several metres below the surface.
The Badger (Broc) connects to perseverance, along with the patience and persistence this requires. He is considered self-reliant, determined, assertive and willing to work, with an earthy wisdom. Brocan was a name for Pictish wise men.
That said, the Badger was not always treated with respect - the game 'Badger in the Bag' started, according to legend, with
the celtic hero Pwyll tricking a rival into a bag and each of his men having a turn at kicking the supposed 'badger' he had trapped. Bagging badgers before dealing with them (or indeed baiting them) also has to do with their aggression and fighting skills
The Owl
Irish Traveller Stories Tale of the Owl/Ulchabhán l'esko
A very short traditional tale....The night they say was still when the voice was heard, calling through the branches of a juniper tree to those that sat in the circle about a fire, kindled with hopes of holding back the hungry hands of winter. From under the sheltering arms of the tree arose an owl, feathers silver like the moon, soft as the first breath of morning wind, with eyes like obsidian that caught and shimmered in the flickering flames of the fire.
“Death is coming” said the owl, with a voice that echoed through the air. “Death is coming...”.
Those that heard arose to their feet, fear raised, horror was in their footing as they ran away. They ran to the high lands and the low lands, they ran to the burnt lands and to the altars of the stone church. For a day they shook hands, forgive grudges, held each other tight, lit candles against their own shadows and sung loud of hopes and the glory of life.
That night death did not visit but again the Owl came and again the Owl spoke... “Death is coming. Death is coming....”
Like before the people found the winter chill kiss their bones and fear dance in their mind and once again they held each other tight through the night, speaking words of hope, of kindness, of love...
Again death did not visit....
On the third night the ruffle of feathers against the night air was heard and like before the owl arose and spoke to the Pavees as they sat about the freshly kindled fire.
“Death is coming, death is coming...”
This time though the Pavee's let the words fall on empty ears, some shouted“away with you owl, we will have no more of you!”, others still threw stones and filled the air with cries of anger.
With that the Owl took to the wind and spoke no more to the Pavees by the fire.
In the days that followed most talked of the Owl as a liar and a fool but as the days turned to years and years to decades those who had the hearts to listen, understood the message of the Owl.
Death is coming... be it in the coming dawn or in the far off horizon....
...however kindness, hope and love is already here.
So, go on, ask yourself... do you need an Owl in your life? Would you listen or throw stones?
*Lʹesko is thought to arise from the Gaelic 'sgēal'.
(With the kind permission of www.barefootpavee.blogspot.com)
A very short traditional tale....The night they say was still when the voice was heard, calling through the branches of a juniper tree to those that sat in the circle about a fire, kindled with hopes of holding back the hungry hands of winter. From under the sheltering arms of the tree arose an owl, feathers silver like the moon, soft as the first breath of morning wind, with eyes like obsidian that caught and shimmered in the flickering flames of the fire.
“Death is coming” said the owl, with a voice that echoed through the air. “Death is coming...”.
Those that heard arose to their feet, fear raised, horror was in their footing as they ran away. They ran to the high lands and the low lands, they ran to the burnt lands and to the altars of the stone church. For a day they shook hands, forgive grudges, held each other tight, lit candles against their own shadows and sung loud of hopes and the glory of life.
That night death did not visit but again the Owl came and again the Owl spoke... “Death is coming. Death is coming....”
Like before the people found the winter chill kiss their bones and fear dance in their mind and once again they held each other tight through the night, speaking words of hope, of kindness, of love...
Again death did not visit....
On the third night the ruffle of feathers against the night air was heard and like before the owl arose and spoke to the Pavees as they sat about the freshly kindled fire.
“Death is coming, death is coming...”
This time though the Pavee's let the words fall on empty ears, some shouted“away with you owl, we will have no more of you!”, others still threw stones and filled the air with cries of anger.
With that the Owl took to the wind and spoke no more to the Pavees by the fire.
In the days that followed most talked of the Owl as a liar and a fool but as the days turned to years and years to decades those who had the hearts to listen, understood the message of the Owl.
Death is coming... be it in the coming dawn or in the far off horizon....
...however kindness, hope and love is already here.
So, go on, ask yourself... do you need an Owl in your life? Would you listen or throw stones?
*Lʹesko is thought to arise from the Gaelic 'sgēal'.
(With the kind permission of www.barefootpavee.blogspot.com)
Butterfly/Moth.
Butterfly/Moth. Féileacán.
A butterfly or moth will hover for a time in one place or fly in a fleeting, hesitant manner, suggesting a soul that is reluctant to move on to the next world. The transformation of a caterpillar into a butterfly seems to provide the ultimate model for our ideas of death, burial, and resurrection. This imagery is still implicit in Christianity when people speak of being “born again.” The chrysalis of a butterfly may have
even inspired the splendour of many coffins from antiquity. Many cocoons are very finely woven, with some threads that are golden or silver in colour. The Greek word “psyche” means soul, but it can also designate abutterfly or moth. The Latin word “anima” has the same dual meaning.
The custom of scattering flowers at funerals is very ancient, and the flowers attract butterflies, which appear to have emerged from a corpse.
Up to the 1600s it was against common law in Ireland to kill a white butterfly because they were believed to hold the souls of dead children.
In Irish folklore, they were the souls of dead people who return to visit their favourite place and their loved ones and it was unlucky to harm one. The red admiral butterfly, however, was thought to be the devil and was persecuted.
Old Irish saying "Butterflies are souls of the dead waiting to pass through Purgatory"
The significance of the butterfly in Irish folklore attributes it as the soul and thus it has the ability to cross into the Otherworld. It is also a symbol of transformation and creation.
"For Christians, the butterfly's three steps of metamorphosis -- as caterpillar, pupa and then winged insect -- are reminiscent of spiritual transformation"
An Irish blessing: May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun and find your shoulder to light upon. To bring you luck, happiness and riches today and beyond.
Butterfly - If the first butterfly you see in the year is white, you will have good luck all year. Three butterflies together mean a child will soon be born.
Moth - A white moth inside the house or trying to enter the house means death. A brown moth means an important letter
is coming.
A big black moth in the house means a deceased one is just visiting reincarnated through that moth.
According to superstition, the death's head hawk moth, with its skull and crossbones markings and loud squeak, was a
harbinger of death, war and disease. The moth uses its tough proboscis to crack through beehives and suck out honey and in some parts of Ireland is known as a bee robber.
A butterfly or moth will hover for a time in one place or fly in a fleeting, hesitant manner, suggesting a soul that is reluctant to move on to the next world. The transformation of a caterpillar into a butterfly seems to provide the ultimate model for our ideas of death, burial, and resurrection. This imagery is still implicit in Christianity when people speak of being “born again.” The chrysalis of a butterfly may have
even inspired the splendour of many coffins from antiquity. Many cocoons are very finely woven, with some threads that are golden or silver in colour. The Greek word “psyche” means soul, but it can also designate abutterfly or moth. The Latin word “anima” has the same dual meaning.
The custom of scattering flowers at funerals is very ancient, and the flowers attract butterflies, which appear to have emerged from a corpse.
Up to the 1600s it was against common law in Ireland to kill a white butterfly because they were believed to hold the souls of dead children.
In Irish folklore, they were the souls of dead people who return to visit their favourite place and their loved ones and it was unlucky to harm one. The red admiral butterfly, however, was thought to be the devil and was persecuted.
Old Irish saying "Butterflies are souls of the dead waiting to pass through Purgatory"
The significance of the butterfly in Irish folklore attributes it as the soul and thus it has the ability to cross into the Otherworld. It is also a symbol of transformation and creation.
"For Christians, the butterfly's three steps of metamorphosis -- as caterpillar, pupa and then winged insect -- are reminiscent of spiritual transformation"
An Irish blessing: May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun and find your shoulder to light upon. To bring you luck, happiness and riches today and beyond.
Butterfly - If the first butterfly you see in the year is white, you will have good luck all year. Three butterflies together mean a child will soon be born.
Moth - A white moth inside the house or trying to enter the house means death. A brown moth means an important letter
is coming.
A big black moth in the house means a deceased one is just visiting reincarnated through that moth.
According to superstition, the death's head hawk moth, with its skull and crossbones markings and loud squeak, was a
harbinger of death, war and disease. The moth uses its tough proboscis to crack through beehives and suck out honey and in some parts of Ireland is known as a bee robber.
The Bat.
The Bat. Laltóg.
Feared as creatures of the night associated with death, sickness and witchcraft. Made famous as the familiars of vampires by the cinema.
They sleep hanging upside down by their feet. They live in shelters such as caves or hollow trees, but they also take advantage of human structures. Like most small animals that are drawn to human habitations, bats have often been identified in folk belief with the souls of the dead. As a result, in cultures that venerate ancestral spirits, bats are often considered sacred or beloved. When spirits are expected to pass on rather than return, bats appear as demons or, at best, souls unable to find peace.
According to one well-known fable, popularly attributed to Aesop, the birds and beasts were once preparing for war.
The birds said to the bat, “Come with us,” but he replied, “I am a beast.”
The beasts said to the bat, “Come with us,” but he replied, “I am a bird.”
At the last moment a peace was made, but ever since, all creatures have shunned the bat.
In relation to bats the learned folklorist Joseph Jacobs said “He that is neither one thing nor the other has no friends”
Revulsion against them, however, is far from universal, and their quizzical faces have often inspired affection. There were
no glass windows in the ancient world, and so people had little choice but to share their homes with bats.
In Ireland if a bat was seen near the house it was taken as a sign of an impending death for a member of the household. However, we have bats in our roof space (they came in last winter). We are quite happy with them and they cause us no problems whatever.
A common bat seen in and around hedgerows at dusk is the Pipistrelle Bat. Their Irish name is Laltog Fheascrach which means
'bat of the evening'.
Feared as creatures of the night associated with death, sickness and witchcraft. Made famous as the familiars of vampires by the cinema.
They sleep hanging upside down by their feet. They live in shelters such as caves or hollow trees, but they also take advantage of human structures. Like most small animals that are drawn to human habitations, bats have often been identified in folk belief with the souls of the dead. As a result, in cultures that venerate ancestral spirits, bats are often considered sacred or beloved. When spirits are expected to pass on rather than return, bats appear as demons or, at best, souls unable to find peace.
According to one well-known fable, popularly attributed to Aesop, the birds and beasts were once preparing for war.
The birds said to the bat, “Come with us,” but he replied, “I am a beast.”
The beasts said to the bat, “Come with us,” but he replied, “I am a bird.”
At the last moment a peace was made, but ever since, all creatures have shunned the bat.
In relation to bats the learned folklorist Joseph Jacobs said “He that is neither one thing nor the other has no friends”
Revulsion against them, however, is far from universal, and their quizzical faces have often inspired affection. There were
no glass windows in the ancient world, and so people had little choice but to share their homes with bats.
In Ireland if a bat was seen near the house it was taken as a sign of an impending death for a member of the household. However, we have bats in our roof space (they came in last winter). We are quite happy with them and they cause us no problems whatever.
A common bat seen in and around hedgerows at dusk is the Pipistrelle Bat. Their Irish name is Laltog Fheascrach which means
'bat of the evening'.
The Fox.
The Fox. Sionnach.
A popular belief concerning the origin of the fox was held in Ireland. It was believed that they were the dogs of the Norsemen who were supposed to have brought them to Ireland.
Foxes are very good at concealing themselves. Their ability to hide and move swiftly through the hedgerow corridors is legendary. It is this ability together with their skill and cunning when it comes to taking poultry and small animals that has resulted in a reputation that we know today.
The Celtic druids admired the fox for this skill and cunning. In 1984 the two thousand year old body of a man who had been garrotted was found in a bog near Manchester, England (Lindow man). He was wearing a fox fur amulet and had traces of mistletoe pollen in his gut, and his death by three causes, led Dr. Anne Ross to suggest that he may have been a druid prince slaughtered in a ritual.
In common with the otter, the fox is said to carry a magical pearl, which brings good luck to whoever finds it.
The fox is associated with adaptability, and was thought to be a shape-shifter. There are many stories showing the cunning of the Fox, not always to its credit, but it should be remembered that ‘cunning’ comes from kenning, meaning ‘to know’, without necessarily carrying slyness. This is the fox’s great secret. In folklore all over the world it’s described as "sly", "clever", and “cunning" – and it is. It’s clever at adapting so that it assimilates into its environment even when this environment is changing rapidly.
That cunning may, however, be associated with the false trails a fox can leave in order to deceive its hunters - and foxes were hunted for their pelts, perhaps in a ritual manner. Like the Deer, the Fox was often part of burial rituals, found now in excavations.
The fox was said to be able to foresee events including the weather and its barking was said to be a sure sign of rain.
It is thought to be unlucky to meet a woman with red hair or a fox when setting out in the morning, especially if you were a
fisherman.
One cure for infertility was for a woman to sprinkle sugar on the testicles of a fox and roast them in an oven. She should
then eat them before her main meal for three days in succession. It does not mention whether the fox was dead or not but I certainly hope so.
An Irish cure for gallstones and kidney stones was to rub the affected area with foxe’s blood.
The tongue of a fox was also thought to be able to remove a stubborn thorn from the foot, when all else has failed.
A popular belief concerning the origin of the fox was held in Ireland. It was believed that they were the dogs of the Norsemen who were supposed to have brought them to Ireland.
Foxes are very good at concealing themselves. Their ability to hide and move swiftly through the hedgerow corridors is legendary. It is this ability together with their skill and cunning when it comes to taking poultry and small animals that has resulted in a reputation that we know today.
The Celtic druids admired the fox for this skill and cunning. In 1984 the two thousand year old body of a man who had been garrotted was found in a bog near Manchester, England (Lindow man). He was wearing a fox fur amulet and had traces of mistletoe pollen in his gut, and his death by three causes, led Dr. Anne Ross to suggest that he may have been a druid prince slaughtered in a ritual.
In common with the otter, the fox is said to carry a magical pearl, which brings good luck to whoever finds it.
The fox is associated with adaptability, and was thought to be a shape-shifter. There are many stories showing the cunning of the Fox, not always to its credit, but it should be remembered that ‘cunning’ comes from kenning, meaning ‘to know’, without necessarily carrying slyness. This is the fox’s great secret. In folklore all over the world it’s described as "sly", "clever", and “cunning" – and it is. It’s clever at adapting so that it assimilates into its environment even when this environment is changing rapidly.
That cunning may, however, be associated with the false trails a fox can leave in order to deceive its hunters - and foxes were hunted for their pelts, perhaps in a ritual manner. Like the Deer, the Fox was often part of burial rituals, found now in excavations.
The fox was said to be able to foresee events including the weather and its barking was said to be a sure sign of rain.
It is thought to be unlucky to meet a woman with red hair or a fox when setting out in the morning, especially if you were a
fisherman.
One cure for infertility was for a woman to sprinkle sugar on the testicles of a fox and roast them in an oven. She should
then eat them before her main meal for three days in succession. It does not mention whether the fox was dead or not but I certainly hope so.
An Irish cure for gallstones and kidney stones was to rub the affected area with foxe’s blood.
The tongue of a fox was also thought to be able to remove a stubborn thorn from the foot, when all else has failed.
The Common Frog.
The Frog. Losgann.
Frogs are quite recent additions to the fauna of the Irish hedgerow and its exact method of introduction is unknown. Some suggest it was introduced by the Anglo-Normans yet others believe they were introduced sometime during the late 1500s early 1600s by students of Trinity College Dublin who had brought them here from England. They released the frogs into ponds and ditches that were around Trinity at that time, from
there they spread to all parts of Ireland and the rest is history. However, it is harmless and well thought of and appears to have found its niche in the rich habitat of the hedgerow.
Water is considered sacred to druids and all water has its guardian spirits or deity. Frogs and their close relative’s toads may be found in ditches at the edge of hedgerows or where riverine hedges grow. They are spawned in water and will return to the place of their birth in order to carry out the cycle of life and for this reason they were thought to be representatives of the water spirits. Some even believed that a frog was the earthly manifestation of water spirits that lived in sacred wells.
Frogs were seen as creatures of the underworld and for this reason they became associated with witches and the supernatural to be used in the preparation of potions and spells. They were also believed to be one of the witch’s familiars who would give
warning to its mistress by loud croaking. As a familiar of the witch or indeed some druids the frog was looked upon as a messenger of the water god/goddess who brought blessings of rain and purification.
The ashes of a cremated frog was thought to stop bleeding, its spawn was considered a cure for rheumatism and inflammatory diseases. Sore eyes could be cured by getting someone to lick the eye of a frog then licking the eye of the affected sufferer.
The frog, through its connection to Mother earth was considered lucky to have living in the dairy for it protected the milk.
If you look at the colour of the frog you can predict the weather, dark coloured frogs are a sign of rain, light brown or yellow means that dry weather is on the way. There may be some truth in it as rain does make frogs darker and good dry sunny weather makes their skin a lighter colour so who knows?
It is considered bad luck if a frog comes into your house although we have had many a frog come into our cottage and it never did us any harm. Having said that I have never won millions on the lotto so again who knows?
If you put a live frog in your mouth it will cure toothache. You had to rub the frog on the tooth or chew its leg.
It will cure a cold if you hold a frog by its legs and place it in the sufferer’s mouth for a moment (you’ll be too busy vomiting to
cough).
If a child had whooping cough it could be cured by bringing it to running water, putting a frog into the child’s mouth three times and then letting te frog swim away uninjured. It would take the whooping cough with it. Is this where the saying“I’ve got a frog in my throat” came from?
A love charm—Bury a live frog in a box and after a few days dig it up. Take the skeleton apart and select a particular bone, place the bone in the clothing of the intended and they will fall madly in love with you.
"Why do the English call the French Frogs’?"
The main reason is that three frogs have been depicted on the heraldic device of Paris since ancient times; probably dating
back to when Paris was a swamp. In pre-revolutionary France the common people of France were called grenouilles, or
frogs, and the same name was later extended to include all the French people (By the English). Although some people will still believe it’s because they eat frog’s legs.
Frogs are quite recent additions to the fauna of the Irish hedgerow and its exact method of introduction is unknown. Some suggest it was introduced by the Anglo-Normans yet others believe they were introduced sometime during the late 1500s early 1600s by students of Trinity College Dublin who had brought them here from England. They released the frogs into ponds and ditches that were around Trinity at that time, from
there they spread to all parts of Ireland and the rest is history. However, it is harmless and well thought of and appears to have found its niche in the rich habitat of the hedgerow.
Water is considered sacred to druids and all water has its guardian spirits or deity. Frogs and their close relative’s toads may be found in ditches at the edge of hedgerows or where riverine hedges grow. They are spawned in water and will return to the place of their birth in order to carry out the cycle of life and for this reason they were thought to be representatives of the water spirits. Some even believed that a frog was the earthly manifestation of water spirits that lived in sacred wells.
Frogs were seen as creatures of the underworld and for this reason they became associated with witches and the supernatural to be used in the preparation of potions and spells. They were also believed to be one of the witch’s familiars who would give
warning to its mistress by loud croaking. As a familiar of the witch or indeed some druids the frog was looked upon as a messenger of the water god/goddess who brought blessings of rain and purification.
The ashes of a cremated frog was thought to stop bleeding, its spawn was considered a cure for rheumatism and inflammatory diseases. Sore eyes could be cured by getting someone to lick the eye of a frog then licking the eye of the affected sufferer.
The frog, through its connection to Mother earth was considered lucky to have living in the dairy for it protected the milk.
If you look at the colour of the frog you can predict the weather, dark coloured frogs are a sign of rain, light brown or yellow means that dry weather is on the way. There may be some truth in it as rain does make frogs darker and good dry sunny weather makes their skin a lighter colour so who knows?
It is considered bad luck if a frog comes into your house although we have had many a frog come into our cottage and it never did us any harm. Having said that I have never won millions on the lotto so again who knows?
If you put a live frog in your mouth it will cure toothache. You had to rub the frog on the tooth or chew its leg.
It will cure a cold if you hold a frog by its legs and place it in the sufferer’s mouth for a moment (you’ll be too busy vomiting to
cough).
If a child had whooping cough it could be cured by bringing it to running water, putting a frog into the child’s mouth three times and then letting te frog swim away uninjured. It would take the whooping cough with it. Is this where the saying“I’ve got a frog in my throat” came from?
A love charm—Bury a live frog in a box and after a few days dig it up. Take the skeleton apart and select a particular bone, place the bone in the clothing of the intended and they will fall madly in love with you.
"Why do the English call the French Frogs’?"
The main reason is that three frogs have been depicted on the heraldic device of Paris since ancient times; probably dating
back to when Paris was a swamp. In pre-revolutionary France the common people of France were called grenouilles, or
frogs, and the same name was later extended to include all the French people (By the English). Although some people will still believe it’s because they eat frog’s legs.
The Wren.
Wren. Dreoilín.
Associated with the druids of Ireland who consider the wren a sacred bird and used their musical notes for divination. They were called magus avium (the magic or druid bird).
This poor unfortunate bird was for many years hunted and killed although today is respected. The main day for hunting was December 26 when the cruel practice was carried out by young boys. The boys would receive money as they paraded the dead birds from house to house. The wren was seen as a sacred bird to the early Druids and therefore was the target by Christian believers as Pagan purges were frequent and all-embracing. This unfortunate set of circumstances may also have come about as the feathers were thought to prevent a person from drowning, and because of this the feathers were traditionally very popular with sailors.
A traditional French belief tells that children should not touch the nest of a wren or the child will suffer from pimples. In the same way as a robin is revered, if anyone harms the bird then the person will suffer the same fate.
The Breton druids have given the wren an honoured role in their folklore, they believe that it was the wren that brought fire from the gods but as she flew back down to earth her wings began to burn so she passed her gift to the robin, whose chest plumage began to burst into flames. The lark came to the rescue, finally bringing the gift of fire to the world.
The wren’s eggs are said to be protected by lightning. Whoever tries to steal wren’s eggs or even baby wrens would find their house struck by lightning and their hands would shrivel up.
During the winter wren’s lose their body heat rapidly and therefore will often roost together to keep warm. Remember an odd nest box left up occasionally during the winter months will often be used for roosting. It is not unusual for several wrens to cuddle up together in one box during cold times.
The male bird builds two or three ball-shaped nests for the female to inspect. She decides which one she likes best and will then proceed to line the chosen nest ready for egg laying. The wren is a mouse-like little bird for it scurries here and there hiding in ivy leaves and picking up insects in all sorts of hideaway places.
Wordsworth writes about the wren’s song in Book II of The Prelude. Whilst most people find the wrens song a little harsh, he favoured its song and celebrates it in his writing. Good old Wordsworth!
How the Wren became the King of all birds.
Once upon a time, somewhere in the west of Ireland there was a secret valley it was full of trees and close to the sea.
Among the animals of Ireland it was known as the Valley of the Birds because it was there that all the birds in Ireland would meet at certain times of the year to discuss matters of importance and to sort out any problems they may have had.
At one of these meetings the trees were covered with birds of all kinds. There were little birds like the robin red breast and the tiny wren. There were medium sized birds like the chicken and the crow and there were big birds like the sea gull and the golden eagle with his sharp claws and fierce eyes.
The golden eagle said,
“I have been watching the humans and I saw that they have a king. I think we should have our own king”
However, which bird should it be and how do they choose a King. The birds discussed the matter all day and late into the night.
The robin said,
“I should be King for the robin did a great favour for the Queen of the faeries and as a reward she gave us this fine red waistcoat to wear so all other birds could see how brave and loyal the robin is”
“Excuse me” said the wren in a tiny little voice that none of the other birds could hear because of all the twittering and screeching that was going on.
The crow said,
“Caw’m off it, I should be king of the birds for the crow has followed the human and knows their ways. I also have the most beautiful black feathers, Caw Caw”
“Excuse me” said the wren.
The chicken said,
“Bu bu bu but I should be king for I lay eggs that the humans have for breakfast. I live on their farms so I also know their ways and I have the most beautiful feathers of many different colours. Everyone loves me, so I should be king”
“Excuse me” said the wren.
The sea gull said,
“I guide the human when they go to sea; I show them where they can catch fish and warn them of bad weather, they trust me.
I should be king”
“Excuse me” said the wren,
The golden eagle said,
“I am bigger and fiercer than any of you. I can see further and am stronger and braver, I can fly higher so I am your rightful king, you must choose me”
“Excuse me” said the wren.
The owl sat a little way off in the branches of a tree. He said nothing but all the birds knew he was the wisest of all birds.
"Let us ask the owl to choose our king” cried the birds.
The owl agreed and chose two swans to help him decide and to act as referees. They also made the rules and made sure
all the other birds in the competition obeyed them. No pushing, no scratching, that sort of thing.
The owl then said,
“We have decided that as we are creatures of the air the bird that flies the highest should be our king”.
The wren said in a tiny little voice,
“Yes, yes, the bird that flies the highest should be king”
The owl looked at the wren, put his head to one side and said,
“Hoot, hoot”
The wren thought to himself,
“The owl thinks he is the wisest of all birds but I’m wiser than he is and I already know which bird will fly highest”.
The owl said,
“Now the rules are simple, whoever flies the highest will be crowned king of all the birds in Ireland. Are there any questions”?
The Eagle stretched out his wings, looked at the owl and said,
“Just one, where’s my crown”?
“What do you mean” squawked the magpie. “We haven’t had the competition yet, how do you know you are going to win”?
“Of course I’ll win”said the eagle “I am the best bird in all of Ireland”
“Well there is more to being king than being big and strong, to be a good ruler you should be wise, kind and sensitive to others” said the magpie.
“Shut yer face” said the eagle, “I’m going to win so there”. and he stuck out his tongue.
The owl turned to all the other birds and said,
“Everyone ready, flap your wings, ready, steady, GO”
They all took off in a cloud of feathers. They flew high above the earth, but one by one they grew tired and had to come back down to their homes. The owl and the swans watched and each thought they knew who would win, but they said nothing. The golden eagle beat his powerful wings and rose higher and higher. After a while he looked back and saw all the other birds far below him.
“This is easy, they’ll never catch me, and I’m going to win this easily” he thought,
Very pleased with himself he went higher and higher until he could go no further,
“I’ve won; I’m the true king of all the birds in Ireland”
He began to get ready to glide back down to earth. Just then he felt something moving in the feathers on his back and he heard a tiny little voice say,
“Excuse me and thank you”
The golden eagle looked over his shoulder and can you guess what he saw? Yes it was the tiny little wren. The wren jumped off his back, up into the air and flapped his wings. He flew high above the eagle. The eagle was angry and tried to flap his wings again but by now he was too tired.
“Come back, come back, that’s not fair, I’m the king of the birds” screeched the eagle.
But the wren flew higher and higher.
The eagle glided back down to earth and screeched in an angry voice,
“That’s not fair, tell the wren that he has cheated and it is not allowed”
The wise old owl listened to the eagle, smiled and looked up to the tiny spot high above in the sky. The wren was coming back down to earth. The owl whispered to the two swans.
"Well”, demanded the eagle.
“We have made our decision” said the owl to all the birds,
“Being a king means not only being big and strong and powerful. It also means being clever, thinking ahead and planning. The wren did not cheat he simply outwitted you. For this reason we have decided that the wren will be king of all birds”.
That is the story of how the tiny wren became the king of all birds and he has been the king of all birds in Ireland ever since As for the eagle, well he decided he wanted nothing more to do with things and went to live on a mountain top and that is where eagles live to this day.
Associated with the druids of Ireland who consider the wren a sacred bird and used their musical notes for divination. They were called magus avium (the magic or druid bird).
This poor unfortunate bird was for many years hunted and killed although today is respected. The main day for hunting was December 26 when the cruel practice was carried out by young boys. The boys would receive money as they paraded the dead birds from house to house. The wren was seen as a sacred bird to the early Druids and therefore was the target by Christian believers as Pagan purges were frequent and all-embracing. This unfortunate set of circumstances may also have come about as the feathers were thought to prevent a person from drowning, and because of this the feathers were traditionally very popular with sailors.
A traditional French belief tells that children should not touch the nest of a wren or the child will suffer from pimples. In the same way as a robin is revered, if anyone harms the bird then the person will suffer the same fate.
The Breton druids have given the wren an honoured role in their folklore, they believe that it was the wren that brought fire from the gods but as she flew back down to earth her wings began to burn so she passed her gift to the robin, whose chest plumage began to burst into flames. The lark came to the rescue, finally bringing the gift of fire to the world.
The wren’s eggs are said to be protected by lightning. Whoever tries to steal wren’s eggs or even baby wrens would find their house struck by lightning and their hands would shrivel up.
During the winter wren’s lose their body heat rapidly and therefore will often roost together to keep warm. Remember an odd nest box left up occasionally during the winter months will often be used for roosting. It is not unusual for several wrens to cuddle up together in one box during cold times.
The male bird builds two or three ball-shaped nests for the female to inspect. She decides which one she likes best and will then proceed to line the chosen nest ready for egg laying. The wren is a mouse-like little bird for it scurries here and there hiding in ivy leaves and picking up insects in all sorts of hideaway places.
Wordsworth writes about the wren’s song in Book II of The Prelude. Whilst most people find the wrens song a little harsh, he favoured its song and celebrates it in his writing. Good old Wordsworth!
How the Wren became the King of all birds.
Once upon a time, somewhere in the west of Ireland there was a secret valley it was full of trees and close to the sea.
Among the animals of Ireland it was known as the Valley of the Birds because it was there that all the birds in Ireland would meet at certain times of the year to discuss matters of importance and to sort out any problems they may have had.
At one of these meetings the trees were covered with birds of all kinds. There were little birds like the robin red breast and the tiny wren. There were medium sized birds like the chicken and the crow and there were big birds like the sea gull and the golden eagle with his sharp claws and fierce eyes.
The golden eagle said,
“I have been watching the humans and I saw that they have a king. I think we should have our own king”
However, which bird should it be and how do they choose a King. The birds discussed the matter all day and late into the night.
The robin said,
“I should be King for the robin did a great favour for the Queen of the faeries and as a reward she gave us this fine red waistcoat to wear so all other birds could see how brave and loyal the robin is”
“Excuse me” said the wren in a tiny little voice that none of the other birds could hear because of all the twittering and screeching that was going on.
The crow said,
“Caw’m off it, I should be king of the birds for the crow has followed the human and knows their ways. I also have the most beautiful black feathers, Caw Caw”
“Excuse me” said the wren.
The chicken said,
“Bu bu bu but I should be king for I lay eggs that the humans have for breakfast. I live on their farms so I also know their ways and I have the most beautiful feathers of many different colours. Everyone loves me, so I should be king”
“Excuse me” said the wren.
The sea gull said,
“I guide the human when they go to sea; I show them where they can catch fish and warn them of bad weather, they trust me.
I should be king”
“Excuse me” said the wren,
The golden eagle said,
“I am bigger and fiercer than any of you. I can see further and am stronger and braver, I can fly higher so I am your rightful king, you must choose me”
“Excuse me” said the wren.
The owl sat a little way off in the branches of a tree. He said nothing but all the birds knew he was the wisest of all birds.
"Let us ask the owl to choose our king” cried the birds.
The owl agreed and chose two swans to help him decide and to act as referees. They also made the rules and made sure
all the other birds in the competition obeyed them. No pushing, no scratching, that sort of thing.
The owl then said,
“We have decided that as we are creatures of the air the bird that flies the highest should be our king”.
The wren said in a tiny little voice,
“Yes, yes, the bird that flies the highest should be king”
The owl looked at the wren, put his head to one side and said,
“Hoot, hoot”
The wren thought to himself,
“The owl thinks he is the wisest of all birds but I’m wiser than he is and I already know which bird will fly highest”.
The owl said,
“Now the rules are simple, whoever flies the highest will be crowned king of all the birds in Ireland. Are there any questions”?
The Eagle stretched out his wings, looked at the owl and said,
“Just one, where’s my crown”?
“What do you mean” squawked the magpie. “We haven’t had the competition yet, how do you know you are going to win”?
“Of course I’ll win”said the eagle “I am the best bird in all of Ireland”
“Well there is more to being king than being big and strong, to be a good ruler you should be wise, kind and sensitive to others” said the magpie.
“Shut yer face” said the eagle, “I’m going to win so there”. and he stuck out his tongue.
The owl turned to all the other birds and said,
“Everyone ready, flap your wings, ready, steady, GO”
They all took off in a cloud of feathers. They flew high above the earth, but one by one they grew tired and had to come back down to their homes. The owl and the swans watched and each thought they knew who would win, but they said nothing. The golden eagle beat his powerful wings and rose higher and higher. After a while he looked back and saw all the other birds far below him.
“This is easy, they’ll never catch me, and I’m going to win this easily” he thought,
Very pleased with himself he went higher and higher until he could go no further,
“I’ve won; I’m the true king of all the birds in Ireland”
He began to get ready to glide back down to earth. Just then he felt something moving in the feathers on his back and he heard a tiny little voice say,
“Excuse me and thank you”
The golden eagle looked over his shoulder and can you guess what he saw? Yes it was the tiny little wren. The wren jumped off his back, up into the air and flapped his wings. He flew high above the eagle. The eagle was angry and tried to flap his wings again but by now he was too tired.
“Come back, come back, that’s not fair, I’m the king of the birds” screeched the eagle.
But the wren flew higher and higher.
The eagle glided back down to earth and screeched in an angry voice,
“That’s not fair, tell the wren that he has cheated and it is not allowed”
The wise old owl listened to the eagle, smiled and looked up to the tiny spot high above in the sky. The wren was coming back down to earth. The owl whispered to the two swans.
"Well”, demanded the eagle.
“We have made our decision” said the owl to all the birds,
“Being a king means not only being big and strong and powerful. It also means being clever, thinking ahead and planning. The wren did not cheat he simply outwitted you. For this reason we have decided that the wren will be king of all birds”.
That is the story of how the tiny wren became the king of all birds and he has been the king of all birds in Ireland ever since As for the eagle, well he decided he wanted nothing more to do with things and went to live on a mountain top and that is where eagles live to this day.
The Robin.
Robin. Spideóg.
If you harm a robin's nest, you will be struck by lightning. There is also an old saying "Kill a robin or a wren, never prosper, boy or man."
A robin entering the house foretells of a death to come.
If a robin stays close to the house in autumn, a harsh winter can be expected. Robins are thought to be helpful to humans, occasionally granting favours. Robins are a sure sign of spring and if you make a wish on the first robin of spring before it flies off, you'll have luck throughout the following year.
Robins with their cheery red breasts adorn many of our Christmas cards and decorations, and there are several stories as to
how the robin acquired its red breast feathers. In the Christian tradition, it is thought that a robin tried to remove the thorns from Jesus’ head during the Crucifixion, and that drops of his blood fell onto the bird and stained his breast feathers red forever.
In another myth, the robin gained his red breast from flying into the fiery wastes of hell to carry water to the stricken sinners
who were suffering there for all eternity. It’s enough to give you nightmares.
The robin is another bird where it is believed that if they are seen tapping on the window or flying into a room that a member of the household will soon be dead. However, we often have Robins flying into our cottage and we look on them as our friends not as harbingers of death.
If you break a robin’s eggs expect something important of yours to be broken very soon.
Note that if you see a robin singing in the open that good weather is on its way, but that if the robin is seen sheltering among the branches of a tree that it will soon rain. Also, if the first bird that you see on St Valentine’s Day is a robin, it means that you are
destined to marry a sailor!
It is said to be extremely unlucky to kill this bird. The hand that does so will continue to shake thereafter. Traditionally the Irish believe that a large lump will appear on the right hand if you kill one. It is said that whatever you do to a robin you will suffer the same tragedy. Some believe that the robin will not be chased by a cat.
It was widely believed that if a robin came across a dead body it would carefully cover the body with leaves and vegetation
until it was completely hidden.
Robins were believed to provide a cure for depression. The remedy suggests a robin must be killed and its heart removed.
The heart should then be stitched into a sachet and worn around the neck on a cord. I think that would give me depression.
In the south east of Ireland they believed that if a robin entered a house it was a sign of snow or frost.
A robin singing indicated a coming storm.
How Robin got his Red Breast.
One winter, a long time ago, Jack Frost was very cruel. He made the snow fall thickly upon the ground, and he put ice on the ponds and frost on the window panes. The birds found it very hard to get food and soon they began to get hungry. Then, one day, the birds were sitting in a ring under a hedge, trying to think what was to be done. After a while a little brown, bird, called Robin, got up to speak.
"I have an idea," he said. "I will go into the gardens and try to get people to give us a lot more crumbs!"
Now Robin had a way all of his own of making friends. He went along to the houses where people lived and in one of the gardens he saw a man clearing away the snow from a path, so he hopped up very close to the man. Most birds are very much afraid of men, but Robin was brave. He had to be, if he was to help the other birds. When the man saw how friendly Robin was, and how hungry he seemed to be, he went into his house and fetched a tray full of crumbs. Robin was glad, and he flew off to fetch the other birds, and soon there were crowds of them in the kind man's garden.
The best way they could say "Thank you" to the kind man was to eat the crumbs out of his hand. Robin then flew away into other gardens, and wherever he went he made friends. So, while the snow stayed on the ground the birds were able to feed after all.
At last Jack Frost sent the snow away, and then the happy birds wanted to thank Robin so they made him a little red waistcoat,
which he still wears. That is why he is now called Robin Redbreast.
OR
Many years ago, late in the year, a cruel wind brought biting cold weather; making the night more difficult for a father and son who had travelled so far and yet still had farther to go. They looked for a cottage, a barn, or even a tree, anywhere they might find shelter. However, there was nothing to be seen or found, except for a bush, and at last the father built a fire and told his
son to try and sleep a little. When the father's eyes began to droop he woke his son and told him to watch the fire.
Well how the boy tried to stay awake! He hadn't really slept while lying on the frozen ground and he was still exhausted from the walk. His eyes got lower. His head got lower. The fire got lower. So low in fact that a starving wolf began to inch nearer the sleeping pair.
However, there was one who was awake. There was one who saw everything from the middle of an old bush; a little bird who was as gray as the brambly wood. The bird hopped down and began fanning the flickering embers until the flames began to lick out hungrily; nor did the little bird stop, despite the pain on his breast, until the flames were dancing with strength. The heat from the flames changed the colour of his breast feathers and from that day onwards the Robin has proudly worn a red breast.
Robins feature in ‘Babes in the Woods’ when the little bird buried the children, who had died of cold, with leaves. The ballad ‘Who Killed Cock Robin’ was first published in 1744 and Drayton in 1604 referred to the robin in his work entitled ‘The Owlet’. In fact there are many writers who have been inspired by the dear old robin
If you harm a robin's nest, you will be struck by lightning. There is also an old saying "Kill a robin or a wren, never prosper, boy or man."
A robin entering the house foretells of a death to come.
If a robin stays close to the house in autumn, a harsh winter can be expected. Robins are thought to be helpful to humans, occasionally granting favours. Robins are a sure sign of spring and if you make a wish on the first robin of spring before it flies off, you'll have luck throughout the following year.
Robins with their cheery red breasts adorn many of our Christmas cards and decorations, and there are several stories as to
how the robin acquired its red breast feathers. In the Christian tradition, it is thought that a robin tried to remove the thorns from Jesus’ head during the Crucifixion, and that drops of his blood fell onto the bird and stained his breast feathers red forever.
In another myth, the robin gained his red breast from flying into the fiery wastes of hell to carry water to the stricken sinners
who were suffering there for all eternity. It’s enough to give you nightmares.
The robin is another bird where it is believed that if they are seen tapping on the window or flying into a room that a member of the household will soon be dead. However, we often have Robins flying into our cottage and we look on them as our friends not as harbingers of death.
If you break a robin’s eggs expect something important of yours to be broken very soon.
Note that if you see a robin singing in the open that good weather is on its way, but that if the robin is seen sheltering among the branches of a tree that it will soon rain. Also, if the first bird that you see on St Valentine’s Day is a robin, it means that you are
destined to marry a sailor!
It is said to be extremely unlucky to kill this bird. The hand that does so will continue to shake thereafter. Traditionally the Irish believe that a large lump will appear on the right hand if you kill one. It is said that whatever you do to a robin you will suffer the same tragedy. Some believe that the robin will not be chased by a cat.
It was widely believed that if a robin came across a dead body it would carefully cover the body with leaves and vegetation
until it was completely hidden.
Robins were believed to provide a cure for depression. The remedy suggests a robin must be killed and its heart removed.
The heart should then be stitched into a sachet and worn around the neck on a cord. I think that would give me depression.
In the south east of Ireland they believed that if a robin entered a house it was a sign of snow or frost.
A robin singing indicated a coming storm.
How Robin got his Red Breast.
One winter, a long time ago, Jack Frost was very cruel. He made the snow fall thickly upon the ground, and he put ice on the ponds and frost on the window panes. The birds found it very hard to get food and soon they began to get hungry. Then, one day, the birds were sitting in a ring under a hedge, trying to think what was to be done. After a while a little brown, bird, called Robin, got up to speak.
"I have an idea," he said. "I will go into the gardens and try to get people to give us a lot more crumbs!"
Now Robin had a way all of his own of making friends. He went along to the houses where people lived and in one of the gardens he saw a man clearing away the snow from a path, so he hopped up very close to the man. Most birds are very much afraid of men, but Robin was brave. He had to be, if he was to help the other birds. When the man saw how friendly Robin was, and how hungry he seemed to be, he went into his house and fetched a tray full of crumbs. Robin was glad, and he flew off to fetch the other birds, and soon there were crowds of them in the kind man's garden.
The best way they could say "Thank you" to the kind man was to eat the crumbs out of his hand. Robin then flew away into other gardens, and wherever he went he made friends. So, while the snow stayed on the ground the birds were able to feed after all.
At last Jack Frost sent the snow away, and then the happy birds wanted to thank Robin so they made him a little red waistcoat,
which he still wears. That is why he is now called Robin Redbreast.
OR
Many years ago, late in the year, a cruel wind brought biting cold weather; making the night more difficult for a father and son who had travelled so far and yet still had farther to go. They looked for a cottage, a barn, or even a tree, anywhere they might find shelter. However, there was nothing to be seen or found, except for a bush, and at last the father built a fire and told his
son to try and sleep a little. When the father's eyes began to droop he woke his son and told him to watch the fire.
Well how the boy tried to stay awake! He hadn't really slept while lying on the frozen ground and he was still exhausted from the walk. His eyes got lower. His head got lower. The fire got lower. So low in fact that a starving wolf began to inch nearer the sleeping pair.
However, there was one who was awake. There was one who saw everything from the middle of an old bush; a little bird who was as gray as the brambly wood. The bird hopped down and began fanning the flickering embers until the flames began to lick out hungrily; nor did the little bird stop, despite the pain on his breast, until the flames were dancing with strength. The heat from the flames changed the colour of his breast feathers and from that day onwards the Robin has proudly worn a red breast.
Robins feature in ‘Babes in the Woods’ when the little bird buried the children, who had died of cold, with leaves. The ballad ‘Who Killed Cock Robin’ was first published in 1744 and Drayton in 1604 referred to the robin in his work entitled ‘The Owlet’. In fact there are many writers who have been inspired by the dear old robin
