Bealtaine and a ‘Gentle’ Tree

Bealtaine and the Mountain Ash is blossoming in the ditches and on the mountains of Ireland. 

Associated with good luck, Caorthann, the Mountain Ash or Rowan was considered to be protection against malevolence and the unwanted attention of the Good People, particularly at Bealtaine.

With it’s white blossom and red berries, both colours associated with the Otherworld, 

the rowan is firmly rooted in Irish folklore & mythology.

Mountain ash boughs were scattered on the threshold of houses on May Eve to deprive the fairies of their power to harm the butter or the baby. 

In Co. Clare boughs were hung over doors and windows to protect the home and bring good luck for the ensuing year.

In many places on May Eve sticks of mountain ash were placed in the four corners of gardens and fields to protect the home and crops and a twig was dropped into the well as a precaution against skimming the luck from the household.

Sprigs of rowan were worked into a charm, best made after sunset on May eve, 

to safeguard the milk from witchcraft and the Good People.

Throughout the year the tree was said to be lucky. 

Red berries were scattered under the cows

And a branch put on the roof with a piece of timber to keep the home safe from storms 

for twelve months.

To ensure people’s health a sprig of mountain ash was placed in the thatch to ward off sickness for a year whilst the berries, boiled with new milk and strained, was drunk as a cure for stomach pain.

On the eves of Samhain and Bealtaine, when Otherworldly forces were abroad, a piece of rowan was carried in a pocket for protection. 

Horses were also vulnerable to the attentions of the Good People who were known to steal them, 

ride them through the night, then return them the next morning lathered and exhausted. 

To counteract this fate a slip of rowan would be tied to their manes.

The tree however also had links to Na Daoine Sidhe and was known as a ‘gentle’ tree.

Sprigs of the tree when twisted into a ring and held to the eye would enable the user to see

the fairies clearly and despite their apparent benevolence certain ‘gentle’ rowan trees were known to be gathering places for the Good People and cutting them had consequences - 

Recent years have seen a rise in the popularity of Ireland’s folk traditions with the making 

of BRIGID’S CROSSES at Imbolg and the decoration of MAY BUSHES at Bealtaine.

Perhaps the Mountain Ash will take it’s place besides the may bush once again.

Mountain Ash cross and spring flowers besides the front door at Bealtaine.

  

'A year in the life of a Rowan Tree'

Small Rituals at Bealtaine.

Flowers left on the fairy thorn.

It has been a long, hard winter. 

The greening of the land was slow this year but a walk along the river showed blossoming blackthorn

and blue hills released from snow.

Further afield Knocknaman, THE HILL OF THE WOMEN was decked in new growth.

Cnoc na mBan, Knocknaman, Co. Offaly, site of ancient hilltop fires at Bealtaine.

In the past I’ve celebrated Bealtaine with friends, in circles and woods at bonfires and sacred sites.

These days I quietly acknowledge the changing year around my home with small rituals, 

visiting the special places in the local landscape.

May Eve, Oíche Bealtaine, brought a gentle warmth as I decorated the MAY BUSH besides my door to welcome the summer with flowers.  

Slips of Mountain Ash protected the house from unwanted attentions of those who roam on this night.

As the evening deepened I left butter on a fairy path for the Good Neighbours

and milk by the old stone.

During the days that followed there were offerings at the river,

 on whitethorn 

and water.

 And flowers to greet the Good People at the places where they gather.

Decorated fallen thorn by the fairy path.

On the path to the fairy mound at SHEEAN

Tonight, on the old date for Bealtaine, the traditional fires will be lit upon the Hill Of Uisneach 

and my own small bonfire will join with others to welcome another summer.

***

All offerings left on trees are removed at the end of my Bealtaine devotions.

Whitethorn ~ on the threshold of the Otherworld.

The month of May sees a procession of whitethorn stretching their long white fingers across the green land. 

They stand in the liminal places, between land and water,

beside sacred wells.

They guard ancient sites,

Oweynagat, “Cave of the Cats”, Co. Roscommon, home of the Morrigan.

Grange Stone Circle, Co. Limerick.

And gathering points where the Good People meet.

Distant whitethorn on the local Fairy Path where the Daoine Sídhe are said to gather. 

They trail across forgotten pathways

The path to Sheean. Link to read more: SHEEAN

and carry healing spells.

The Rag Tree at Killeigh, Co. Offaly. Link to read more: RAG TREE 

Standing between this world and the Otherworld the whitethorn, An Sceach Gheal, ‘bright, shining thorn’, is steeped in folklore and regarded with respect for fear of supernatural retribution. 

Felling a lone thorn brings bad luck and today many farmers continue to work around them.

Injury or even death could also befall anyone who damaged or cut down a lone bush. 

The close relationship between tree and Good People was acknowledged across the island. 

Some thorns were believed to have almost human attributes. 

In Co. Cork it was understood that a stick of whitethorn would have a temper of its’ own if used in anger and elsewhere blood was believed to flow from a lone bush if felled.

The kinship between thorn and Daoine Sídhe was occasionally utilised by people.

In Co. Laois it was once customary to sprinkle sprigs of whitethorn with holy water before planting them in fields in the belief that banishing the connection to the Otherworld would discourage the Good People from taking the crops.

Within old church yards thorns are left in place although they are often pruned 

to reflect Christian symbolism.

This bond was understood to be of service to cattle too.

Farmers would hang the afterbirth of a premature calf on a whitethorn believing that the bush would help it to survive and in some areas a sprig from a fairy thorn was hung in the milk parlour to encourage cows to produce creamier milk. 

The May Bush decorated skeletal remains of whitethorn and ivy.
Link to read more: MAY BUSH 

On May Eve when the bush was decorated there were differing views on the use of whitethorn for this purpose. 

In some areas it was acceptable and in others, using a branch of thorn was considered unlucky.

Throughout the country however, it was believed that bringing blossom into the house would shortly be followed by illness and death.

Whitethorn blossom exudes a scent that many find unpleasant and it has been found that the chemical trimethylamine, which is formed when animal tissues decay, is also present in the blossom. 

Unbaptised infants who had died and were denied internment in consecrated ground, were buried in the ‘sacred space’ beneath lone thorns, especially if they stood within fairy forts.

Lone thorn on Rath Coffey used as an infants' grave.
Link to read more: Cillín

Others mark age-old stopping places from hearth to grave.

Whitethorn standing between farm yard and road. 

It was customary for bearers to rest the coffin at the foot of this bush and local lore states 

that the thorn must not be removed. 

By the end of Lughnasadh the Whitethorn has become the Hawthorn,

limbs laden with red haws. 

And as the year progresses the tree reveals her true nature.

Thorn on the Burren - image © eyeem.

Living an average of 400 years, with some reaching 700, they become twisted and gnarled, claws sharp and fingers bent with age.

Thorns on the Burren coast.

A procession of bent forms reminiscent of hags, ridden by the wind.

'Wind-blown Trees' by Paul Henry.

At Samhain, standing starkly on the threshold of the Otherworld, they guard supernatural paths awaiting transformation.

Bealtaine seduction

I have been led astray by sunlight and deep green shadow.

Beguiled by trails of bluebell, 

blackbird and cuckoo call.

Beside the footstick bridge 

the whispering river carries the coconut perfume of gorse

to lure me away from desk and easel.

Finally seduced by the scent of the dangerous whitethorn 

I surrender. 

I leave early tomorrow for the west. 

Who knows when I will return?

This song captures the coming of summer to Ireland for me.

Close your eyes and walk down the dusty road……..

'The Curra Road' by Ger Wolfe.