A green tendril weaves through the fabric of time. When animal life first pushed up from the mud of chaos, simple plants were already there to welcome us into the web of life.
— from Mugworts in May, by Linda Ours Rago
From Beltane to Midsummer, the Faery Kingdom celebrates the intense, growing delight of Spring. Throughout the centuries, Europeans made note of which flowers and trees were attractive to the Good Folk and, of occasional necessity, which plants would offer protection.
For not all of the Fae are friendly to humans, as I’ve discussed before, and few bear any resemblance to the whimsical confections that the Victorians invented. Certainly with the widespread human destruction of their habitat and even the demonizing of them, who can blame the Others for being wary and even antagonistic to mortals?
After all, the word we use for the Fae Folk – “fey” – means doom, powerful foreboding, and even death. The realm of the Faeries is not a Hallmark greeting card. As one writer and visitor has put it, it is, “the dangerous realm of otherworldly creatures, where beauty and death lurk in equal measures.”
But part of my magical mission is to help restore harmony between those of us who dwell in the sunlit realms, and our ancient neighbors, the Fair Ones. As we continue to explore the gifts of Thalia, Grace of flowering and mirth, I would like to share with you, over the next few days, some of the flower lore that has to do with the Shining Folk, particularly to invite their presence in your garden or home.
But consider well if this should be your intent. This is not an invitation to be extended on a whim, just as you would not casually promise anyone of power and importance your friendship, only to neglect or ignore them later.
Tomorrow, with the blessings and protection of Thalia we will examine some of the traditional relationships between the Fey and the flowers.