Tag Archive | folklore

Eastern Comma ~ Polygonia comma

Eastern Comma ~ Polygonia comma on Pachysandra terminalis ‘Green Carpet’

Butterflies in the genus Polygonia are collectively referred to as anglewings. The eastern comma (Polygonia comma), is also known as the comma angelwing and the hop merchant.

In earlier years, farmers growing hops are said to have used the brilliant metallic markings on the Eastern Comma‘s chrysalis (which they found in numbers on their crop) to forecast the season‘s prices: if the markings were golden, the Hop prices would be high; if they were silver, the prices would be lower. Hence, the species‘ other common name, hop merchant.

When they aren’t feeding on rotting fruit, tree sap, salts and minerals from puddling and dung, males perch on leaves or tree trunks to watch for females. Females lay eggs in rows on host plants; all members of the elm and nettle families including American elm (Ulmus americana), hops (Humulus), nettle (Urtica), false nettle (Boehmeria cylindrica), and wood nettle (Laportea canadensis). Caterpillars are usually solitary and feed on leaves at night. Older caterpillars make daytime shelters by pulling leaf edges together with silk. Winter-form adults hibernate, some first migrating to the south.

A Papago Butterfly Legend

One day the Creator was resting, sitting, watching some children at play in a village. The children laughed and sang, yet as he watched them, the Creator’s heart was sad. He was thinking: “These children will grow old. Their skin will become wrinkled. Their hair will turn gray. Their teeth will fall out. The young hunter’s arm will fail. These lovely young girls will grow ugly and fat. The playful puppies will become blind, mangy dogs. And those wonderful flowers – yellow and blue, red and purple – will fade. The leaves from the trees will fall and dry up. Already they are turning yellow.” Thus the Creator grew sadder and sadder. It was in the fall, and the thought of the coming winter, with its cold and lack of game and green things, made his heart heavy.

Yet it was still warm, and the sun was shining. The Creator watched the play of sunlight and shadow on the ground, the yellow leaves being carried here and there by the wind. He saw the blueness of the sky, the whiteness of some cornmeal ground by the women. Suddenly he smiled. “All those colors, they ought to be preserved. I’ll make something to gladden my heart, something for these children to look at and enjoy.”

The Creator took out his bag and started gathering things: a spot of sunlight, a handful of blue from the sky, the whiteness of the cornmeal, the shadow of playing children, the blackness of a beautiful girl’s hair, the yellow of the falling leaves, the green of the pine needles, the red, purple, and orange of the flowers around him. All these he put into his bag. As an afterthought, he put the songs of the birds in, too.

Then he walked over to the grassy spot where the children were playing. “Children, little children, this is for you,” and he gave them his bag. “Open it; there’s something nice inside,” he told them. The children opened the bag, and at once hundreds and hundreds of colored butterflies flew out, dancing around the children’s heads, settling on their hair, fluttering up again to sip from this or that flower. And the children, enchanted, said that they had never seen anything so beautiful.

The butterflies began to sing, and the children listened smiling. But then a songbird came flying, settling on the Creator’s shoulder, scolding him, saying: “It’s not right to give our songs to these new, pretty things. You told us when you made us that every bird would have his own song. And now you’ve passed them all around. Isn’t it enough that you gave your new playthings the colors of the rainbow?” “You’re right,” said the Creator. “I made one song for each bird, and I shouldn’t have taken what belongs to you.”

So the Creator took the songs away from the butterflies, and that’s why they are silent. “They’re beautiful even so!” he said.

© Ilex ~ Midwestern Plant Girl

Mallard Ducks ~ Anas platyrhynchos

When I was a little girl…. That’s how my Grandfather would always start his stories 🙂

When my family visited my Grandparents, we had a general routine for Saturdays. We’d go to lunch at a favorite buffet location where we would stuff bread in my mom’s purse for the ducks we’d feed at the park later!

These guys are the most common and well-known duck in the world. So common, that I think I’ll just go into a story.

The wintry winds had already begun to whistle and the waves to rise when the Drake and his mate gathered their half- grown brood together on the shore of their far northern lake.

“Wife,” said he, “it is now time to take the children southward, to the Warm Countries which they have never yet seen!”

Very early the next morning they set out on their long journey, forming a great “V” against the sky in their flight. The mother led her flock and the father brought up the rear, keeping a sharp lookout for stragglers.

All day they flew high in the keen air, over wide prairies and great forests of northern pine, until toward evening they saw below them a chain of lakes, glittering like a string of dark-blue stones.

Swinging round in a half circle, they dropped lower and lower, ready to alight and rest upon the smooth surface of the nearest lake. Suddenly their leader heard a whizzing sound like that of a bullet as it cuts the air, and she quickly gave the warning: “Honk! honk! Danger, danger!” All descended in dizzy spirals, but as the great Falcon swooped toward them with upraised wing, the ducklings scattered wildly hither and thither. The old Drake came last, and it was he who was struck!

“Honk, honk!” cried all the Ducks in terror, and for a minute the air was full of soft downy feathers like flakes of snow. But the force of the blow was lost upon the well-cushioned body of the Drake, he soon got over his fright and went on his way southward with his family, while the Falcon dropped heavily to the water’s edge with a broken wing.

There he stayed and hunted mice as best he could from day to day, sleeping at night in a hollow log to be out of the way of the Fox and the Weasel. All the wit he had was not too much whereby to keep himself alive through the long, hard winter.

Toward spring, however, the Falcon’s wing had healed and he could fly a little, though feebly. The sun rose higher and higher in the blue
heavens, and the Ducks began to return to their cool northern home. Every day a flock or two flew over the lake; but the Falcon dared not charge upon the flocks, much as he wished to do so. He was weak with hunger, and afraid to trust to the strength of the broken wing.

One fine day a chattering flock of Mallards alighted quite near him, cooling their glossy breasts upon the gently rippling wave. “Here, children,” boasted an old Drake, “is the very spot where your father was charged upon last autumn by a cruel Falcon! I can tell you that it took all my skill and quickness in dodging to save my life. Best of all, our fierce enemy dropped to the ground with a broken wing! Doubtless he is long since dead of starvation, or else a Fox or a Mink has made a meal of the wicked creature!”

By these words the Falcon knew his old enemy, and his courage returned. “Nevertheless, I am still here!” he exclaimed, and darted like a flash upon the unsuspecting old Drake, who was resting and telling of his exploit and narrow escape with the greatest pride and satisfaction. “Honk! honk! ” screamed all the Ducks, and they scattered and whirled upward like the dead leaves in autumn; but the Falcon with sure aim selected the old Drake and gave swift chase. Round and round in dizzy spirals they swung together, till with a quick spurt the Falcon struck the shining, outstretched neck of the other, and snapped it with one powerful blow of his reunited wing.

Do not exult too soon; nor is it wise to tell of your brave deeds within the hearing of your enemy.

© Ilex ~ Midwestern Plant Girl

Happy Friday the 13th!!

friday13
Happy Friday the 13th!! Do you have Paraskevidekatriaphobia or just the run of the mill Triskaidekaphobia?

It’s been estimated that $800 or $900 million is lost in business on this day because people will not fly or do business they would normally do. .. You could always stay home and cuddle-up with your internet device and read Midwestern Plants all day!! =-)

Traditionally in numerology, 12 is considered the number of completeness: the 12 signs of the zodiac, the 12 Apostles, 12 hours of the clock, the 12 tribes of Israel, the 12 days of Christmas – the list goes on. The number 13 is considered a transgression, or going beyond completeness.

There are many historical tales as to why either Friday or the number 13 are bad news:

  • Frigga (Frigg) The Norse love goddess and wife of Odin, was worshiped on the sixth day of the week. Christians though of Frigga as a witch, thus considered Friday to be the witches’ day.
  • Another Norse legend tells of one fine day in Valhalla, home to the 12 Norse gods, a party was taking place.  Loki (the trickster) crashed the party (13th guest) and arranged for Hoder (the blind god of darkness) to kill Baldr (the beautiful god of light) with a mistletoe-tipped arrow, his only way to die. After Baldr’s death, the world got dark and mourned the death of the god. Since then, the number 13 has been associated with gloom and doom.
  • Jesus was crucified on Good Friday and The Last Supper was believed to be attended by thirteen people. The thirteenth being Judas. (That story sounds familiar?)
  • Eve’s offering the apple to Adam in the Garden of Eden, supposedly happened on a Friday.
  • Chaucer even alluded to Friday as a day on which bad things seemed to happen in the Canterbury Tales as far back as the late 14th century (“And on a Friday fell all this mischance”), but references to Friday as a day connected with ill luck generally start to show up in Western literature around the mid-17th century: “Now Friday came, you old wives say, Of all the week’s the unluckiest day.”   (1656)

fri13

The list goes on and on. Opposed to dwelling on the past, what can be done to avoid the curse of Friday the Thirteenth? Maybe try starting out your Friday with one of these folklore curse remedies*:

  • Climb to the top of a mountain or skyscraper and burn all the socks you own that have holes in them
  • Stand on your head and eat a piece of gristle
  • Greeks think sponge baths cure you of curses
  • Spitting on the person or thing causing the curse will rid it
  • Place a black candle into the black bowl, fix the candle to the bowl using the wax
    drippings from the candle so that it stands alone.
    Fill the bowl to the rim with fresh water, without wetting the wick.

    Breathe deeply and meditate for a few minutes.
    When your mind is clear, light the candle.
    Visualize the power the spell cast against you as living within the candles flame.
    As the candle burns down, it will sputter and go out as it touches the water.
    As it is extinguished by the water, the curse is broken.
    Finally, dig a hole into the ground, pour the water into it, then bury the candle.
jason likes this

Enter a caption

Dr. Donald Dossey, author of “Holiday Folklore, Phobias and Fun: Mythical Origins, Scientific Treatments,” thinks he’s found the cure. Once a sufferer learns how to pronounce “paraskavedekatriaphobia,” he said in an interview with NPR, they’re magically cured.
Maybe The Cure is the Cure?
*These were researched answers I found on the internet. Thus, since I found these on the internet, they surely must be true and factual.
 =-) Ilex Farrell

Woodstock Willie Says It Will Be an Early Spring for 2016!

Today, February 2nd, we celebrate Groundhog Day.  Our local Groundhog “Woodstock Willie” will let us Midwesterners know if we will be enjoying an early Spring!! Oooor not. =-(

I will update this post after 7 AM when Willie let’s us know!

UPDATE for 2016!! Willie did NOT see his shadow, so we will be enjoying an early spring here in the Midwest!! BTW – Punxsutawney Phil did not see his shadow either, so it looks like an early spring for most of the U.S. Smiles all around!! =-D

woodstock willie

Photo courtesy of WoodstockILchamber.com

Groundhog day started here in the U.S. around 1840 when German immigrants in Pennsylvania introduced the tradition of weather forecasting via the hedgehog (der Igel) in Germany. Since there were no hedgehogs here, the Pennsylvania German’s adopted the native woodchuck, aka the groundhog. The town of Punxsutawney, just northeast of Pittsburgh, has played up the custom over the years and has managed to become the most famous locations for Groundhog Day celebrations. Each year, people gather to see if a groundhog named “Punxsutawney Phil” will see his shadow after he emerges from his burrow. If he does, the tradition says there will be six more weeks of winter. (Phil has a rather dismal 39% rate of accuracy for his predictions.)

A similar German tradition is connected with St. Swithin’s Day (Siebenschläfer, June 27th), for which tradition says that if it rains on that day, it will rain for the next seven weeks. However, the Siebenschläfer is a dormouse, not a hedgehog.

The movie, “Groundhog Day” 1993 staring Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell is one of my favorite movies. It was not filmed in Pennsylvania, where the movie takes place, but in Woodstock, Illinois, which is right near my home.

There is a small plaque that reads “Bill Murray stepped here” on the curb where Murray continually steps into a puddle.

I would encourage everyone to snuggle up with something warm… A husband, wife, dog, cat… or even a hot toddy and watch this great movie.

2/2/2016

Happy Friday the 13th!!

friday13
Happy Friday the 13th!! Do you have Paraskevidekatriaphobia or just the run of the mill Triskaidekaphobia?

It’s been estimated that $800 or $900 million is lost in business on this day because people will not fly or do business they would normally do. .. You could always stay home and cuddle-up with your internet device and read Midwestern Plants all day!! =-)

Traditionally in numerology, 12 is considered the number of completeness: the 12 signs of the zodiac, the 12 Apostles, 12 hours of the clock, the 12 tribes of Israel, the 12 days of Christmas – the list goes on. The number 13 is considered a transgression, or going beyond completeness.

There are many historical tales as to why either Friday or the number 13 are bad news:

  • Frigga (Frigg) The Norse love goddess and wife of Odin, was worshiped on the sixth day of the week. Christians though of Frigga as a witch, thus considered Friday to be the witches’ day.
  • Another Norse legend tells of one fine day in Valhalla, home to the 12 Norse gods, a party was taking place.  Loki (the trickster) crashed the party (13th guest) and arranged for Hoder (the blind god of darkness) to kill Baldr (the beautiful god of light) with a mistletoe-tipped arrow, his only way to die. After Baldr’s death, the world got dark and mourned the death of the god. Since then, the number 13 has been associated with gloom and doom.
  • Jesus was crucified on Good Friday and The Last Supper was believed to be attended by thirteen people. The thirteenth being Judas. (That story sounds familiar?)
  • Eve’s offering the apple to Adam in the Garden of Eden, supposedly happened on a Friday.
  • Chaucer even alluded to Friday as a day on which bad things seemed to happen in the Canterbury Tales as far back as the late 14th century (“And on a Friday fell all this mischance”), but references to Friday as a day connected with ill luck generally start to show up in Western literature around the mid-17th century: “Now Friday came, you old wives say, Of all the week’s the unluckiest day.”   (1656)

fri13

The list goes on and on. Opposed to dwelling on the past, what can be done to avoid the curse of Friday the Thirteenth? Maybe try starting out your Friday with one of these folklore curse remedies*:

  • Climb to the top of a mountain or skyscraper and burn all the socks you own that have holes in them
  • Stand on your head and eat a piece of gristle
  • Greeks think sponge baths cure you of curses
  • Spitting on the person or thing causing the curse will rid it
  • Place a black candle into the black bowl, fix the candle to the bowl using the wax
    drippings from the candle so that it stands alone.
    Fill the bowl to the rim with fresh water, without wetting the wick.

    Breathe deeply and meditate for a few minutes.
    When your mind is clear, light the candle.
    Visualize the power the spell cast against you as living within the candles flame.
    As the candle burns down, it will sputter and go out as it touches the water.
    As it is extinguished by the water, the curse is broken.
    Finally, dig a hole into the ground, pour the water into it, then bury the candle.

jason likes this

Dr. Donald Dossey, author of “Holiday Folklore, Phobias and Fun: Mythical Origins, Scientific Treatments,” thinks he’s found the cure. Once a sufferer learns how to pronounce “paraskavedekatriaphobia,” he said in an interview with NPR, they’re magically cured.
Maybe The Cure is the Cure?
*These were researched answers I found on the internet. Thus, since I found these on the internet, they surely must be true and factual.
 =-) Ilex Farrell