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The lore of the hazelnut
Associated to Place: Celtia > articles -- by * Fenian Niafer (25 Articles), General Article
In Celtic lore, hazel nuts are kernals of wisdom.
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Pollen deposits from Ireland and the British Isles tell us that hazel has been well-established there for thousands of years. Cultivated for food, medicine and its flexible branches, the hazel is a relatively small tree, growing only about thirty feet tall at full height. It is usually cut back and coppiced so that the branches form long straight rods used for many of the same purposes as willow, including dowsing. Hazelnuts ground to a powder and mixed into a drink will soothe a sore throat and other symptoms of the common cold.

In the Word Ogham of Morainn, hazel is Cainiu Fedaib literally translated as "fairest of trees." However, another meaning of cainiu is "to keen over a death" or "to satirize." The modern Gaelic word for Hazel is Calltuinn, which in English means "loss of something."

Hazelnuts in Irish lore are the kernals of wisdom and inspiration. Originally, satire was only allowed to be practiced by high level bards and druids because it was considered so powerful and potentially destructive. To focus the mind before uttering a satire, they partook of hazelnuts. Hazelnuts were also eaten for inspiration and wisdom before performing the potent divination rite of Dichetel do Chennaib, which is translated as "cracking the nuts of wisdom". For any Otherworldly journey where the purpose is to gain knowledge, Hazel is always an important element, either in the form of a hazel wand or eating the fruits of the tree.

Here one of my favorite poems by W.B. Yeats. May you be enriched by the wisdom and inspiration of the Hazel!

The Song of the Wandering Angus
By William Butler Yeats

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
Hearthstone
Posted Dec 8, 2005 - 08:23 , Last Edited: Aug 4, 2009 - 13:55











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