The blackthorn blossom is still not open, later here than in the sheltered places, as storm Kathleen’s winds are howling from the South. If you’re seeing white in hedgerows now, it’s blackthorn, white blossoms of spring against the dark wood of winter bare, holding ominous spikes, that can puncture leather. Blood cleanser, digestive aid and rheumatism easer.
It’s said that blackthorn formed the crown of thorns placed on Jesus’s head before crucifixion, on Good Friday. Early Christians vilified it, and it was said ‘witches’, and the devil, pricked and marked with it. Pyres of it burnt those ‘witches’, mostly maligned women who understood the natural world.
It has been used as hedging for 4,500 years, and pruned twigs unearthed in Cambridgeshire are thought to mean it’s the world’s oldest hedging. It is rich in food, symbolism and uses from a prickly barrier to walking sticks, gin and jam.
Researching blackthorn, I was drawn deep into stories, our shared history and connection with the natural world. But the hedging mix I received didn’t include any. These trees on Sandilands are the only reminders of the original hedging ripped out in the 80’s when it was seen as a waste of space and an obstacle to agricultural efficiency.
It’s a tenacious, fierce and protective tree, growing out on suckers and I have read it was known as the Mother of the Woods because its thickets create conditions for other trees to grow, deterring grazers with those barbs.
I feel a light of life inside me, as these stories seep deep, and I feel a time when we saw the plants around us in a different light, as multi-faceting beings standing beside us offering aid as we gave respect. I long for that time to return.
Winter is fading now, most of the tree hedgerow planting has been done as the last full moon, The Worm Moon, calls an end to the cold times. The earth is warming, creatures moving, including the earthworms, which are teeming in this healthy soil.
The roots of the trees are tentatively growing too, fine white strings appearing. The spindle and hawthorn are exploding, the hazel is shy, a late starter, still acclimatizing. And the ground is popping with yellow as dandelion, buttercup and celandine begin to open.
Soon the hawthorn blossom will be out, as May approaches. And I have hawthorn to give away having over-ordered. I will give 25 each, plus guards and poles, to the first 4 people who email me on elizabeth@closetotheearth.co.uk and I’d love to hear where you’re planting them.
Elizabeth Woodcock