Dear Zingertale Readers!

the curious and more curious hat ~ photo by ana traina ~ 2011

I am taking my hat and going on the road for a couple of weeks, I will be back with lots more zingful tales for you. In the mean time, I wish you lots of sunny days filled with zingerlicious treats.

Most zingerly yours,
Ana

Lunaria Annua!

Lunaria annua

I have searched high and low to find this peculiar member of the broccoli family that I remember, O so well, from my childhood. I have just the fondest memories of these translucently magical disks that sat ever so gayly in a creamy green vase on my mother’s coffee table in our living room... However, it was to no avail. So without a photo to show off these luminous beings, you’ll just have to settle for this lovely illustration that I have found.

Lunaria annua, (I love that name!) is also known as money plant, silverbloom, bolbonac, silver dollar, lunary, white satin, satinflower, penny flower, silverplate, judas pence, shilling, two pennies in a purse, money in both pockets, Peter's pence, monnaie-du-pape and honesty. The name "honesty" comes from the fact that the seedpods are transparent.

Lunaria annua has been grown since the Middle Ages. Gerard mentions that it was used to treat wounds, but it was a favorite in Colonial gardens as a result of its root, which is peeled and eaten; its young leaves harvested before flowering are also edible. Victorian middle-class homemakers would paint little scenes on the silvery pods. The oil of the seeds contains unusual fatty acids that have been used against multiple sclerosis.

The leaves have a slightly sweet scent, and the purple, phlox-like flowers are fragrant and attract butterflies and bees.  The plant is protective in that it is said, to keep the boogeymen at bay.  It is best to gather and use the plant at midnight.  In the language of flowers, it represents money, sincerity, and honesty.  The flower essence helps in self evaluation and to recall what has been forgotten or repressed. It also encourages honesty which is a very good thing, indeed. 

LAST BITS OF ODDS AND ENDS ~
This old-fashioned plant was once very common to English cottage gardens, there is one growing in the lovely garden of Beatrix Potter's Hill Top Farm. The story goes like this, she was given the plant by one of the village women; about it, she says, "It blooms in early summer, with lavender, pink, or white flowers. The translucent seed pods that follow are perfect in dried bouquets." The seeds, ground and moistened with hot water or vinegar, are pungent and are used as a mustard substitute.
Beatrix Potter, in a letter to her friend Millie Warne, October 12, 1906: "Mrs. Satterthwaite says stolen plants always grow, I stole some 'honesty' yesterday...I have had something out of nearly every garden in the village."

In the Netherlands they are referred to as Judaspenning (coins of Judas), an allusion to the story of Judas Iscariot  and the thirty pieces of silver he was paid.

Edible leaves can be added to salads.

Lunaria is one of the best play plants for children. Children turn seed pods into imaginative inventions: boats, kite tails, trinkets to trade, Great Dame jewelry, monocles, dollhouse decor, tea party sugar wafers, doll’s hats, moon disks, moon mobiles, and fairy wind chimes.

This herb was formerly supposed to have the power of opening locks and drawing the shoes from the feet of horses.

That Little Girl by the Sea!

photo by ana traina ~2011~

A Crazed Girl

by

William Butler Yeats

That crazed girl improvising her music.
Her poetry, dancing upon the shore,
Her soul in division from itself
Climbing, falling She knew not where,
Hiding amid the cargo of a steamship,
Her knee-cap broken, that girl I declare
A beautiful lofty thing, or a thing
Heroically lost, heroically found.

No matter what disaster occurred
She stood in desperate music wound,
Wound, wound, and she made in her triumph
Where the bales and the baskets lay
No common intelligible sound
But sang, 'O sea-starved, hungry sea.'

Do you Believe in Fairies?

photo of Lily's Fairy Village  by ~ ana traina ~

If you ask my friend Shauna’s daughter, Lily, if she believes in fairies, she would look at you suspiciously and say, “Of course I do! What do you think I’m building here... It’s a fairy village, silly!”

Lily is not alone in her belief, here are some curious tidbits that I was able to uncover and discover...
Ninety-five per cent of Scots continued to believe in fairies right up until the middle of the 19th century. These were not the diminutive, be-winged fairies of 1800s children's books. No, these were strange folk who bewitched you, killed your cattle and kidnapped your wives and daughters.
Fairy lore flowed through the centuries, their presence acknowledged in ballads, poems and stories. They came in all shapes and sizes and different parts of Scotland had different myths. Even today they are remembered in the fairy glens and fairy hills found in every part of Scotland.
This belief in fairies extended beyond Scotland; there was almost universal acknowledgement that they existed.

There's no question that they existed. We have two fairy houses quite close by and we have records of conversations between fairies and people on the island.
-- Sir Iain Noble

"Fairy folklore was world-wide," says Dr Lizanne Henderson, a lecturer of history at the University of Glasgow's Crichton Campus. "They filled a need to explain the unexplainable. It was easier to look for a rational explanation for things that happened, and back then fairies were the rational explanation."

Yet for all that was written on the subject, there was no consensus about what the fairies were. Some speak of them as being dead souls or fallen angels and some tell of their more human qualities...
John Frances Campbell of Islay was one of the first to go into print with his new theory. "I believe there once was a small race of people in these islands," he wrote in 1860.

Then there is “The Fairy Investigation Society” which was founded in Britain in 1927 by a Sir Quentin Craufurd, to collect information on fairy sightings. In 1983, a headquarters for the society was located in Blackrock, Dublin, Ireland.

During its prime, the society organized meetings, lectures, and discussions for collecting evidence of fairy life. With the outbreak of WWII, however, members were dispersed and the society's records were largely lost or destroyed during the conflict. The society then became inactive for a while.
In 1955, with a new and energetic secretary, the society was revived and began to issue a regular newsletter.  The newsletter had a listing of reports from members or other individuals. The society also sent out brochures to recruit new members.

During the late 1950s, there were at least fifty members, including famous people such as author Alasdair Alpin MacGregor, Ithell Colquhoun, Leslie Alan Shepard, Hugh Dowding, Walter Starkie (of gyspy lore fame), and animator Walt Disney.

As the society grew and became more well-known, newspaper articles ridiculing the sightings and study of fairies appeared. They claimed fairies were only a superstition of past centuries. The society once again became inactive.

As late as 1990, a society of the same name is rumored to be active.
There is also a fascinating story of a fairy encounter in Janet Bord’s book Fairies: Real Encounters with Little People about a strange experience reported in 1973 near Alderwasley in the Amber Valley in Derbyshire.

Suddenly, next to a grassy bank on a beautiful summer’s day, there was a four-foot green man.  The witness describes a short conversation, during which the fairy – if indeed that’s what he was – said that his work involved breaking down decaying material for food for plants.  Other twentieth century witnesses have talked about fairies claiming that they are helping trees to grow.
Well now, if you are a believer like Lily, maybe, it’s time you build a fairy village of your own! That is one way to show the fairies that you believe in them. No fairy can resist an inviting retreat blueprinted with enchantment and wonder.

There is plenty of material to use from fallen pines, seashells and stones.
However, always remember to steer clear of using any iron in your fairy village as it is poison to fairies, and they will not go near it!

Almost a Shadow Thought!

photo by Liam Cohen ~ 2011~

Has anybody seen my horn, I seem to have misplaced it!

The Very Mossy Wardian Case!

photo by ana traina ~ 2011 ~

I have recently noticed that terrariums are coming back into fashion, and I couldn’t be happier! I love terrariums, I love the idea of a tiny green world all tucked in, nice and safe and cozy-like, in an old iridescent glass bottle or bubble. A world unto its own...

The terrarium was another Victorian obsession, and the very fine art of the terrarium is generally credited with a man called Nathaniel Bagshaw Ward. This came about with the publishing of his book called "On the Growth of Plants in Closely Glazed Cases" which he published in 1842. It is considered to be the first serious work that outlines the theory and keeping of terrariums.
The story of how he first discovered the terrarium is rather an interesting one and Ward tells it in his book.

He desired to watch an insect chrysalis transform into an insect so he placed it, along with some mold in a capped wide-mouthed glass bottle. He kept a weathered eye on this bottle and noted how, because of the sun, the moisture would be drawn to the top of the bottle during the day then circulate back down to the mold and soil in the evening.

However, his surprise came when quite unexpectedly a seedling fern and a sprout of grass bloomed inside the bottle. He was very awed and amazed by this because he had been unsuccessfully trying to grow these very things in his outdoor garden. He had surmised that the sooty air from local factories had been very hostile to the plants and strangled them to death. This made him believe that the plants were doing well in his little bottle because they were sealed off from outside influences and protected from deadly contaminants. He placed this bottle outside the window of his study and the plants inside continued to thrive for four years with no watering or outside intervention at all! And,  Aha! The terrarium was born.

For a very long time these small glass enclosures were named Wardian Cases, after him, and even though the term is still in use today it is generally not well known and we just call them terrariums.

photo by ana traina ~ 2011 ~

How one can make a MOSS Wardian Case of one’s own:

First off, beginners should use a container that has a large mouth opening.
Next, obtain some good mossy Moss.

Now, you may ask, where can I find moss? What I suggest is...you can take a nice languid walk in your local cemetery, wooded area or park. You are sure to find some exemplary examples of mossy moss somewhere in one of these areas that you can pluck. (However, always remember to leave some mossy moss for the next adventurous indoor gardener to find!)

After that, you need a cup full of tiny to good sized pebbles, a couple of cups of ordinary potting soil, your stolen moss, and a handy-dandy spray bottle, so you can mist the moss afterwards. Moss loves a good misty shower, and you should do this once or twice a day.

What to do, what to do next:

    •    Put about an inch layer of pebbles in the bottom of the container
    •    Put about 2-3 inches of soil right on top of the pebbles. This is optional because moss can do   very well without much soil at all.
    •    Arrange your moss in the container and press it down nice and tight
    •    Add any accessories and accents you want (I will add Sylviana, the little mermaid and her pet penguin, Edwina.)

Not so Carful Caring for your Moss Wardian Case:

If you have a container with a cover or a lid then you can cover it but spy on it often for moisture. You may need to regularly or daily remove the cover and give your moss a good misting. I highly recommend that you leave your Mossy Wardian Case uncovered for a couple of weeks so you can bathe, mist, water it easily before closing it up for good.

The Pithy Frog!

photo by ana traina ~ 2011 ~

 While strolling in the forest the other day, we happened upon this tiny but O' so marvelous frog... and in my research, I was able to uncover and discover that there are many proverbs from around the world about the frog. Here are just a few for your amusement. ~

▪    "You can't tell by looking at a frog how high he will jump." - American proverb.

▪    Vietnamese people have a saying: "Ếch ngồi đáy giếng coi trời bằng vung" ("Sitting at the bottom of wells, frogs think that the sky is as wide as a lid") which ridicules someone who is narrow-knowledged but arrogant.  It is similar to the Chinese language sayings "坐井觀天" ("sitting in the well, looking to the sky") and "井底之蛙" ("a frog in a well"). These ancient sayings go back to the Taoist classic Zhuangzi that has a frog living in an abandoned well, who talks about things big and small with the turtle of the Eastern Sea.

    ▪    There is even a version in Esperanto: En puto la rano ne scias pri la oceano. ("In the well, the frog does not know about the ocean.")

    ▪    "When the snake gets old, the frog gets him by the balls." Iranian proverb.

    ▪    "Igual le puedes pedir a un sapo que cante misa." ("You might as well ask a toad to sing the Mass." You are asking for the impossible.) Spanish proverb.

A Shadow Thought!

drawing by ana traina ~2011~

They say she had a rat's nest in her hair, but she danced anyway!

A Rose of Rainbow Bits!

double rainbow by ana traina ~ 2011~

My Heart Leaps Up
part of the poem by
William Wordsworth

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!...

Upon seeing the extraordinary event of a Double Rainbow, I thought I would find lots of fascinating lore in my research. Alas, there was none. However, I did find some interesting...

BITS OF ODDS AND ENDS ~

There is a delightfulsome book by Humphreys entitled Weather Proverbs and Paradoxes.  Where I found this proverb associated with rainbows,  "Rainbow at night, shepherd's delight; Rainbow in morning, shepherds take warning,"If there be a rainbow in the eve,It will rain and leave; But if there be a rainbow in the morrow It will neither lend nor borrow," and Rainbow to windward, foul fall the day; Rainbow to leeward, damp runs away."

This is an interesting question..."Do two people ever see the same rainbow?" Humphreys points out that "since the rainbow is a special distribution of colors (produced in a particular way) with reference to a definite point - the eye of the observer - and as no single distribution can be the same for two separate points, it follows that two observers do not, and cannot, see the same rainbow." In fact, each eye sees its own rainbow!!

In Irish legend Leprechauns bury pots of gold at the end of the rainbow, but since a rainbow can only be seen at a distance, the gold is forever illusive.

In Greek and Roman mythology, Iris the goddess of the rainbow was one of the messengers of the gods.

A rainbow is a bridge used by soul boats in Indonesia.

The Arabs and the Bantu people of Africa believe the rainbow to be a divine bow for firing arrows.

In Christian tradition, the rainbow represents the throne of Christ.

The Mammoth Sunflower!

photo from ana's garden ~2011

I have not planted sunflowers in my garden for quite some time because usually my son, Liam, plants them with me and unfortunately he has been away at Sunflower planting season.  You see, when it comes to planting pumpkins or sunflowers he has the mighty magic touch. I kid you not, every time I’ve tried to plant them without him, I somehow fail, miserably.  So, I was overjoyed when in between Number Theory, Robotics and 3D Printers  he took a little time out and “volunteered” to help me plant the mammoth sunflower seeds this year.  It has been absolutely enchanting watching them grow, as they lifted their majestic faces just so and twisted there slender stalks to follow the sun’s every move. This is particularly true during the bud stage.  Sunflowers exhibit a unique trait called heliotropism -- the bud of the sunflower faces the sun at all times throughout the day, starting the day facing east, and ending it facing west.
Now, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew there was a tale that went with their graceful sun dance and after a bit of research, here is what I was able to uncover and discover! It is a Greek myth which tells us the great story of the sunflower ...
Once a water-nymph called Clytie was so in love with the God of the Sun, Apollo, that she would sit on the ground and stare up at the sun all day long ... but, Apollo never ever noticed her ...
The other Gods took pity on her and turned her into a sunflower, (Interesting!)... her legs became the sunflower’s stem, whilst her face became the flower, her golden hair the petals.
However, even in the form of a sunflower Clytie continues to adore her love and that is why the sunflower’s face turns to follow the path of the sun ... (Aha!)

LAST BITS OF ODDS AND ENDS ~ The word sunflower comes from the Greek ‘Helianthus’ ... ‘Helios’ meaning ‘sun’ and ‘anthos’ meaning flower.

In 1532 in Peru the natives were found worshipping a giant sunflower, representing the sacred image of a sun god ... with Incan priestesses wearing large, gold discs designed as sunflowers.
In China the sunflower was used to symbolize longevity ...

In the past, stems of sunflowers were used inside life jackets.

Also, the sunflowers in my garden have never grown so tall, all of them are over 11 feet!

Sunflowers (Helianthus annus) are best eaten in the bud stage, I'm told, when it tastes similar to artichokes. Once the flower opens, the petals may be used like chrysanthemums, the flavor is distinctly bittersweet. The unopened flower buds can also be steamed like artichokes.

A Shadow Thought!

drawing by ana traina ~ 2011 ~

When sailing through the topsy turvy, one finds, it is always best to ride your umbrella in the very same direction!

The River Rises!

photo by ana traina ~ 2011 ~

If you recall, only a few months back I wrote that I could not believe my good fortune! I spoke about the few days just after Midsummer’s Night, it was a fanciful but mild Monday, by the Verti-tum-ti-tum River, near Great Barring-ting-tum, Massachusetts. Where I was sitting in my secret spot by a rather babbling part of the emerald river, trying to listen to the cookie-coated chirping melody of the cedar waxwing birds, while simultaneously eating a delightful peanut butter and raspberry jelly sandwich, when to my surprise, I got the most curious feeling that I was being watched.  It was not a gripping goose-bumpy feeling but somewhat odder than that. It made me very curious. I looked all about me, up, down and all around, twice, while all at once the trees stood silent and the cedar waxwings went mute. Finally, after a long back and forth battle with my wits, I told myself it was nothing. I tried to focus my thoughts on more pleasant things, like the whooshing sound of a zooming hummingbird passing by. Settled, I went back to eating my now sand-soaked sandwich. Then, just as I remarked, “Life does not get any better than this!” I happened to glance toward the sparkling verdurous river, when I spied two glass-green eyes peering at me. This was cause for a definite double blink and one good squint. “No, it was nothing,” I told myself as I turned to my squished and sand-soaked sandwich. Then something even stranger occurred, I heard music, the wooden trees started dancing, the gushing waterfall stopped and listened. It was the most enchanting melancholic music bubbling up from the river itself. I kid you not... Right about then, just like Ebenezer, I was thinking this melodic mirage must be the direct result of a bad raspberry seed, or even several that I had digested. When something even queerer came over me, I had a great desire to go swimming in the icy June river. So, I took the plunge and like I said earlier, believe it or not, under that frigid fast water, I ran smack into a very beautiful Nix, or a Nix who APPEARED to be very beautiful. 

Now, do you also remember that I told you it is very difficult to describe the actual appearance of the Nix, as one of his central attributes are thought to be shapeshifting. Perhaps, he wasn’t exactly showing me his true colors or perhaps, he did not have any true shape at all. Nevertheless, I held my nose and continued with extreme caution as I had read that if a Nix wanted to be malicious he would attempt to carry you off by calling your proper name; this, verily, would be the death of you! So I did not share my name with him, nor did he share his with me.

Do you also recall, that as the Nameless Nixie’s glitter sparkled around my hair, I beheld a beautiful forest situated under the sea, which reminded me of an old Gaelic tale I once read, about an enchanted land sunk at some remote time, and is still to this day under a spell. It is called, Tir-fa-Thonn, the lush land beneath the waves. I have heard tell that this jungly land, with its green-sided valleys between woods of fair scented pines and plains that giggles with gillyflowers and buttercups of every hue, appears only once every seven years!

Now, this particular part, above all else, I do hope you remember, that as I gaped around at the marvelous underwater sweep, I became acutely aware that there was a distinct tingling sensation going on in my toes. I gulped, and not-so-calmly looked down at my new...found...tail?! -- Somewhere between the panic and the hysteria, it dawned on me, “Yes, this must be Tir-fa-Thonn! I am in Tir-fa-Thonn and I have grown a tail?” Yet, before I could say, "Put my feet back where they were!" The Nameless Nix had invited me to tea with him at the local watering hole! Now, despite his great charm, I was particularly wary of his intentions, yet, I followed him deeper into the foam. Oddly enough, I was not thinking how very strange this all was, but I found myself wondering if the tea would be something civil tasting like... Earl Grey, and not assorted seaweed!

However, what I have not spoken about until today is how completely and utterly civil the tea was in the quaint little coral cavern under the sea that the Nameless Nix suggested. It was delightsome! A real ambrosial treat, served by fetching catfish waiters in red vests, and sugared with the most thrilling and varied conversation. Yes, we sipped, nibbled and babbled the whole afternoon away, lighting upon such interesting topics as...how a Yorkshireman could be fined 445 pounds for shooting a swan that he thought was a goose, to the earless rabbit that was just born in Fukushima, Japan, and finally on to how divers had recovered Blackbeard’s anchor and Captain Morgan’s cannon! But then and oh, so, so suddenly, as if some imaginary hand struck twelve and the Nameless Nix would all at once turn into a ripe old pumpkin, he made his excuses... What happened next I cannot say for sure, for I don’t really know myself. Except to say, I found myself once more on the lumpy dry land, drooling on my half-eaten-sandy-sandwich, without even a hint of a tail. “Was it something I said? Or...was this only a lazy summer’s daydream?” Feeling quite like the Queen of Nonsense land, “ O’ there was not a lady so silly-down-dilly, dreaming nonsensible things as me!”  Humbled, I got ready to go home. 

As I’ve mentioned before, I did go back to the Verti-tum-ti-tum River, near Great Barring-ting-tum, Massachusetts a few more times...and once I even swam into a delightful young Nix, who could not tell me where to find my Nameless Nixie, for of course, I did not know his name! Nevertheless, he did break into a fantastical and very entertaining mathematical rapping for my amusement! After my second experience with a water Nix, I was more inclined to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, I was not the Queen of Nonsense land after all. I know, I know, that some very scholarly sort of people reading this will squawk and grrr-ruff, stating that mermen, nixies, or even just plain old sea beings have never inhabited this river or any other body of water. Well, let me just say this, I perfectly understand that it may be difficult for them to fathom, unless, they too had an underwater tea party as I once did.  

All this brings me to just a few days ago, a day I will always remember, it was the first unfriendly Saturday afternoon of September, when I went down to the Verti-tum-ti-tum River. It was just after the hurricane and there was not a living soul around. I noticed some very old trees had fallen, that the neighboring corn field had taken quite a beating, and the river was running high. There was not a bit of smooth sand left on the river’s banks to sit on, only big, old, and very uncomfortable river stones. After some numbing moments of sitting down, I noted that there was a muted silence that permeated the thick air, and one tattered oak tree that had fallen clear across the river. It created a funny kind of eddy. Yep, it was just me and a couple of damselflies sitting down by the river. Then unexpectedly a boy appeared from the neighboring corn field, and without even a nod of hello, he soundlessly walked on by and down the river a bit, until, he was completely out of sight. Now, I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t feeling spooked, and especially alone at that moment. So, I did what any sensible woman would do, I lickety-split like lightening packed up my towel and started to leave. I scampered through the thicket, with anxious butterflies beating against my heart, but then, something curious made me stop. I slowly turned back, against my better judgement, to take one last look at the emerald river. There, over by the fallen oak, I saw him, the Nameless Nix. 

photo by ana traina ~ 2011~

He was different somehow and I caught sight of a great sadness in his eye as if he knew something...something about me, something I had buried a long time ago, and then he just disappeared behind the whirling maelstrom. 

What's in a Name?

photo by ana traina ~ 2011 ~

In most cultures dragonflies have been objects of superstition. European folklore is no exception. Many old myths have been lost during the history, but fragments of these old myths are still living in old local names for dragonflies.

Only in Germany have dragonflies had over 150 different names. Some of these are Teufelsnadel ("Devil's needle"), Wasserhexe ("Water witch"), Hollenross ("Goddess' horse"), Teufelspferd ("Devil's horse") and Schlangentöter ("Snake killer"). The name Snake Doctor has been used in Germany.

In England the name Devil's darning needle and Horse stinger have been used. In Denmark the dragonfly have got such different names as Fandens ridehest ("Devil's riding horse") and Guldsmed ("Goldsmith").

The dragonfly was given the name of “Devil’s Darning Needle” because of an almost comical superstition about the dragonfly sewing the mouths shut of lying children, scolding women and cursing men as they slept.
Another delightful stories about the dragonfly is a Zuni myth about two children who were left behind by the villagers when the corn crop failed. The little boy constructed a toy dragonfly from corn husks to cheer up his sister. The dragonfly eventually came to life and appeased the corn maidens who created a bountiful harvest of corn to welcome the villagers back.

Different names of dragonflies referring to them as the devils tools have also occurred in many other European cultures, some examples are the Spanish Caballito del Diablo ("Devil's horse") and the French l'aiguille du diable ("Devil's needle").

During the history the dragonflies even have been connected with love and female, the names damselfly (England), Demoiselle (France) and Jungfer (Germany) are some examples of those nice associations.
In certain parts of Norway, the dragonfly is also known as "oslash;rsnildra". The exact meaning of this word is unknown to me but the part "oslash", does obviously refer to the Norwegian word for "ear", as people (and especially children) often thought that the dragonfly would poke holes in their ear-drums if it got inside their ears.

The Swedish name for dragonfly is trollslända, which means "hobgoblin fly" in English. Long time ago people in Sweden believed that hobgoblins, elves, brownies and such creatures lived in our great woods. In that folklore the dragonflies was considered to be the hobgoblins twisting tools.

An old Swedish name for dragonfly is Blindsticka ("Blind stinger"), this name comes from the opinion that a dragonfly could pick out your eyes. Other people thought that the dragonfly could sew together your eyelids. The same name appears as well in Norway ("Öyenstikker") as in Germany ("Augenstecher").

Another old Swedish name is Skams besman ("Devil's steelyard"), this name probably depends on the dragonfly's body shape that, with some imagination looks like the weighting tool. In the folklore this was interpreted as that the Devil used the dragonfly to weight the people's souls. When a dragonfly flew around your head, your soul was weighted and you should expect seriously injury as punishment. It is very interesting that, despite of those ideas that the dragonfly should be the Devil's tool, the dragonfly have been a holy animal in Scandinavia. In the Æsir cult the dragonfly was thought to be the love goddess Freya's symbol.

Some of the Latin names of dragonfly families have interesting meanings: The name Libellula might have been derived from the word libella ("booklet") referring to the resting dragonfly, which wings, with some imagination, looks quite like the pages of an open book.

My personal favorite name for the red dragon fly is the Swedish name, trollslända, which means "hobgoblin fly!"

An End of Summer Thought!

I Spy, Black Trumpets!

photo by ana traina ~ 2011 ~

A few weeks back, I had uncovered and discovered Black Trumpet mushrooms growing, literally, in my back yard. Of course, knowing near to nothing about mushroom foraging, I only suspected they were the very coveted trumpets! However, after sending off a quick pic I had taken of these blackish mushrooms with their funny funnel-shapes, looking quite delicate as flowers, to our dear friend Daniel Newsome, he very quickly confirmed that they were the O’ so scrumdiddlyumptious Black Trumpets, after all! So, the very next morning, excited and armed with my green cardboard basket, I went to pick the marvelous fungi; alas, they had all disappeared. Gone. Just like that!
So, you can only imagine my joy when yesterday, on our walk to the pond, my son and I were fortunate enough to happen upon these elusive Black Trumpet mushrooms.
Black trumpets, you know, are closely related to chanterelles, but they are much more difficult to spy because they are perfectly camouflaged on the lush forest carpet. Fortunately for me, on occasion, black trumpets grow in bright moss patches like in my photo above; this makes it much easier to spy them in the darkle of the looming trees!
They’re in season summer through fall in North America.
The Black Trumpet has no poisonous look-alike, but they are sometimes confused with the inedible “Devil’s Urn” which despite its ominous name is not poisonous, just horribly yucky tasting.
Other common names of Craterellus cornucopioides are "trumpet of death" and "horn of plenty." As they're closely related to chanterelles they're also known as the "black chanterelle".

Simple Trumpet Sauté
 
Ingredients:
    8 oz fresh black trumpets
    1 clove garlic, minced
    2 cans vegetable or chicken broth
    1 tbsp olive oil (or unsalted butter)
  And a pinch or rosemary

Heat oil in large, non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. Sauté garlic for about 2 minutes.
Add cleaned mushrooms, and cook for about 5 minutes.
Remove from heat and serve.
 
Last bit of Odds and Ends ~ In medieval Ireland, mushrooms were thought to be umbrellas for leprechauns. The English believed mushrooms should be gathered under a full moon to be edible. And the ancient Egyptians considered mushrooms the sons of gods, sent to earth riding on thunderbolts.