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.

The Many Coloured Land.

Yesterday, as daylight dwindled, I was sitting by the stove re-reading AE’s book

‘The Candle of Vision’ when my mind returned to the start of this year. 

I began 2016 here with a post dedicated to George William Russell, AE. 

His writing continued to inspire me through the bleak days of winter and later led me to seek out the Many Coloured Land, places of vision and creative power within myself and the landscape of Ireland.   

To read - Æ, artist & mystic - 

“And the old enchantment lingers in the honey-heart of earth.” LINK HERE

This January was icy but as daylight slowly grew I made preparations to honour Brigid on the Eve of her festival.

The cross was woven and set above the door. 

The brát was placed on the windowsill to catch her blessing as she emerged from nearby 

Croghan Hill, to walk the land. 

To read - "Brighid returns from the Otherworld" LINK HERE

The long desired greening had began by the time I travelled to Kildare, home of her eternal flame. 

Her fire pit held evidence of ritual 

and at Brigid’s Well I felt the rising of the year.

To read - "The promised Spring arrives" LINK HERE

In hindsight I now understand that water has flowed throughout my year. 

Visits to rivers, lakes, bogs and sacred wells have inspired me and strengthened my connection to the spirits of the land. 

I see now that it really began on the shores of Lough Gur, sacred to the goddess Áine. 

To read - LOUGH GUR - “a personality loved, but also feared.”

LINK HERE

Then on morning walks to my local river I spied white blossom on dark limbs.

The blackthorn blazed like pale spirits across the country.

To read "Blackthorn, dark sister of the May" LINK HERE

Pale primroses peeped from beneath hedges and gold glinted in the fields.

Bealtaine came nearer. I welcomed summer on May Eve in the old way by decorating a May bush 

and lighting a bonfire at twilight. 

To read - "The May bush ribbons dance as the Fairy Host pass by" LINK HERE

As the land brought forth her flowers and the sun stretched the evenings

I felt a strong pull towards water, the west and Irelands’ many sacred wells. 

To read - "Sacred water and three thousand Holy Wells" LINK HERE

To read - "By Stone, Whitethorn and Well" LINK HERE

One well in particular, Rathin Well in Co. Clare, was to connect me to a deep sorrow still felt
by many communities.

To read - "In silent need they searched for Holy ground" LINK HERE

The year turned towards harvest but water still drew me to loughs 

To read - "Lughnasa, loughs and a last salute to Summer." LINK HERE

and the dark bog spirits of the Midlands.

To read - "Dark Spirits of the Bog" LINK HERE

There were places where the Otherworld felt close

To read - "The Burren: Land of the Fertile Rock" LINK HERE

and a morning when I stepped into The Silence.

To read - "Otherworld Shenanigans: The Silence" LINK HERE

Throughout this years’ adventures The Cailleach, the Old Woman, has been close by.

She has threaded her way through images.

To read - "The Cailleach - Hag of the Mill & Mother of the Herd" LINK HERE

And words. 

To read - "A Samhain Story - The Lament of the Old Woman" LINK HERE

As I prepare to celebrate the birth of a new year she whispers in my ear -

“ There is more, much more yet to come. You have merely glimpsed the Many Coloured Land.” 

Outside The Cailleach traces frost upon the leaves but I know she has already planted 

the seeds of next years’ adventures.

Many thanks to you all for reading, following and commenting on this blog. 

May your New Year be filled with good food, good health & good company!

“In silent need they searched for Hallowed ground” The Pagan burials of rural Ireland.

Rath Coffey, also known as Raheen or the Fairy Hill.

I visited Rath Coffey before Bealtaine, when the leaves were just a haze on the branches and the Aos Sídhe had not yet emerged to travel the land.

A boreen skirts the river and leads to a tangled ditch filled with brambles but once clambered over, the mound is just a short walk away.

Although close to the road, it remains somehow remote and isolated.

The ráth is home to the Good People and there are many stories which relate the consequences of interfering with the trees and land about it. 

Human activity near the Otherworld mound is unwelcome, 

today Raheen Field is used to graze cattle.

It was understood that entering the mound led to underground passages which radiated outwards, enabling the Good People to travel beneath the land to various locations in the neighbourhood.

One such passage led to another local Fairy Fort near to the home of a family, the Bells, who were tormented by invisible hands. 

Why they attracted this attention isn’t recorded, though it was known that the unseen activity led the householders to block up a window.

The strong belief in the Good People meant that the Fairy Hill was respected but avoided and it’s position, close to the river Barrow, added to the perception that it was a liminal place, between this world and the Otherworld. 

Known as ‘the graveyard of Pagans’ the rath invokes an air of sadness even 

on a clear spring morning.

Rath Coffey once held an important role in the community but today few remember its’ secret: the mound was a cillín, an unofficial burial ground, where grieving families came to bury their unbaptised babies. 

Stones were placed to mark small graves on Rath Coffey.

The Church held that stillborn or unbaptised babies who died soon after birth, could not be regarded as members of the Church.

As they were considered to inhabit the Limbo of Children, a place between Heaven and Hell, these infants were denied internment in the consecrated grounds of Catholic cemeteries.

In the face of this decree some parents, if they had land, buried their infant in the corner of a field or garden, others had no choice but to lay their babies to rest in a once sacred place, away from prying eyes.

This ruling also applied to people who had died by suicide, mothers who died 

in childbirth but hadn’t been churched and strangers whose religion was unknown.

But the greatest number of those buried in pagan graves were unbaptised babies.

Throughout rural Ireland cillíní were in special locations, at the in-between places; 

by Megalithic tombs and ring forts, on beaches and islands, near sacred wells and old churches 

or beneath lone whitethorn trees.

Lone thorn and stone on Rath Coffey.

Perhaps some families believed that their infants would be cared for by their Ancestors or by the Good People when there was no place in heaven for them.

Research in 2013 recorded 1,394 children’s burial grounds within the Republic.

It was customary in rural areas to perform burials between dusk on the day the infant died 

and sunrise the following day. Often the father would be alone when he dug the grave and marked 

the site with stones.  

In one community, where 21 babies had been buried, WHITE QUARTZ  had been used to outline each resting place.

Raithin Well, Co. Clare which is surrounded by an air of melancholy. 

Research after my visit showed the presence of a cillín behind the well, 

close by the lakeshore.

Visiting the cillíní was a very moving experience for me, remembering the lost infants and the countless bereaved women brought me to tears and it is unsurprising that many of these places are still shrouded in aura of sorrow.

However these lonely burial places are now being remembered and brought back into the community. 

This is a reclaimed ring fort in the Midlands, used by generations as an unofficial burial

ground for their unbaptised babies until recent times.

The site was cleared of brambles and undergrowth, the stones placed upright where they had fallen and new trees planted to create a place of remembrance and play.

On some days the space is filled with the laughter and shouts of local children

and offerings are left.

As time passes the fort will hold happier memories but the lost children will always be recalled by local people. 

And the land still remembers.

Please take 30 minutes to watch Oileán na Marbh, Island of the Dead, a programme first shown on TG4, broadcast in Irish with English sub-titles.