A queer looking house stood before him! Long, very long moss was growing on the walls and on the roof of the house! He gazed in bewilderment when the door of the house opened and an aged man, wearing a high hat of birch bark, and a floating beard of tree-moss looked out.
“Do not fear, my Son,” he beckoned to him. “Come in! You have lost your way. Come and be my guest today!”
Frightened, the farmer went into the queer house.
Beside the fire and Old Mother was spinning. Not flax, but bark fibre was on her distaff. On the loom he saw the finest weaving made of birch-bark.
Following the kind invitation, the farmer began to eat; he took apples and some berries and drank from the can. In the can was nothing else but the purest and sweetest birch-sap. When they had finished the evening meal the farmer felt as if he had a heavy supper.
Then bedding for him was spread out on the floor in the corner; he found everything made of birch-bark, but it was soft as down and it was pleasant to rest there.
“Do not fear, my Son,” he beckoned to him. “Come in! You have lost your way. Come and be my guest today!”
Frightened, the farmer went into the queer house.
Beside the fire and Old Mother was spinning. Not flax, but bark fibre was on her distaff. On the loom he saw the finest weaving made of birch-bark.
Following the kind invitation, the farmer began to eat; he took apples and some berries and drank from the can. In the can was nothing else but the purest and sweetest birch-sap. When they had finished the evening meal the farmer felt as if he had a heavy supper.
Then bedding for him was spread out on the floor in the corner; he found everything made of birch-bark, but it was soft as down and it was pleasant to rest there.
Saying these words he put on a coat of birch-bark, on his feet shoes of bark and took his birch-bark hat. Dressed in this strange way he could more easily be taken for a tree than a man.
The farmer thanked his hostess for her hospitality and bade Forest-Mother goodbye. At parting she gave him a box out of birch-bark to take home for his wife.
Then they started to go.
Though his guide appeared to be old, he walked so swiftly that the farmer could not keep up with him even when he was half-running, and begged him several times to walk more slowly.
“That is nothing!” Was the laughing answer. “You should see me when I walk quickly!”
The farmer thanked his hostess for her hospitality and bade Forest-Mother goodbye. At parting she gave him a box out of birch-bark to take home for his wife.
Then they started to go.
Though his guide appeared to be old, he walked so swiftly that the farmer could not keep up with him even when he was half-running, and begged him several times to walk more slowly.
“That is nothing!” Was the laughing answer. “You should see me when I walk quickly!”
When the two men had reached the borders of the forest, the Forest-Father remarked: “From here you may go home alone; now it is impossible to get lost!”
The farmer begged that the friendly Forest-Father would visit his home and be his guest for the rest of the day, but the Forest-Father shook his head and said: “No! Here is the end of my boundary and on the other side of it I have nothing to do! Soon it will be noon and the Old Mother will be waiting for me!”
And the Forest-Father was gone.
The farmer begged that the friendly Forest-Father would visit his home and be his guest for the rest of the day, but the Forest-Father shook his head and said: “No! Here is the end of my boundary and on the other side of it I have nothing to do! Soon it will be noon and the Old Mother will be waiting for me!”
And the Forest-Father was gone.
Forwarded from Hyperborean Radio (The Final Episodes) (T.L.K.)
Some Examples of Traditional Corn Dollies or "Corn Mothers", made out of Wheat or Rye to contain the spirit of the field, From Rye Hounds to Oat Kings, a continuing tradition of Hyperborean Spirituality and Animism.
Tyrfing is the magic sword that Svafrlami extorted from two dwarves, who crafted it with such skill that it would never miss its target but that would also afflict its wielder with three distinct and awful incidents.
Illustrations by Lorenz Frølich and Jenny Nyström
Illustrations by Lorenz Frølich and Jenny Nyström
"The women of the Celtic tribes are bigger and stronger than our Roman women. This is most likely due to their natures as well as their peculiar fondness of all things martial and robust.
The flaxen haired maidens of the north are trained in sports and war, while our gentle ladies are content to do their womanly duties and thus are less powerful than most young girls from Gaul and the hinterlands."
Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, Emperor of Rome, 161-180 CE.
The flaxen haired maidens of the north are trained in sports and war, while our gentle ladies are content to do their womanly duties and thus are less powerful than most young girls from Gaul and the hinterlands."
Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, Emperor of Rome, 161-180 CE.
👍3🥰2