The Hawthorn

The Hawthorn in the city yard

For a better view:

https://www.google.com/maps/@51.5215533,-0.0954266,3a,75y,118.77h,105.15t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1stBpACKT2y-w3yurezg4Mmg!2e0!7i13312!8i6656

Introduction

This noble tree of many years bringing life to a small corner of the city with its fragrant flowers in May and colourful berries in Autumn is under threat from a developer.

There is much folklore connected with the May tree including its extensive uses during the May Day festivities. The hawthorn also affords a safe secure shelter for nesting and migrating birds providing food by way of its haws.

Lone bushes are said to be especially inhabited by fairies. These little folk are protective of their bushes. To cut down these trees has long been know to incur the often fatal wrath of their guardians. Dire consequences have traditionally attended those foolhardy enough to disturb a faery thorn, as many tales recount, eg in 1982,workers in the De Lorean car plant in Northern Ireland claimed that one of the reasons the business had so many problems was because a faery thorn bush had been destroyed during the construction of the plant. The management took this so seriously that they actually had a similar bush brought in and planted with all due ceremony. But the company still went under!

The poem below has been read out to the tree together with a short spell of protection.

The Hawthorn

This noble thorn tree, of many a year,

In small city site, had nothing to fear.

It's fragrant flowers, defining the may,

And those red berries, on an Autumn day.

Affording safe branches, for birds to nest,

Giving protection, for others to rest.

Abundant berries, clusters of ripe red,

Garlands of flowers, on fair maidens head.

The fair maid that on, the first day of May,

Goes down to the meads, in the morning gay.

To wash in the dew, from florets for free,

Wilt ever after, most beautiful be.

The lone hawthorn tree, placed in city yard,

Attracts little folk, these fairies now guard.

Cut down this tree if, thee art foolish of heart,

The wrath of the fairies, may tare thee apart.

De Lorean did, want car plant to grow,

Destroyed a thorn tree, and became fairy foe.

Many problems arose, with thorn bush gone,

Until a new thorn, did appease the throng.