Local words for landscape features hold a deep fascination for many of us.  The language used to represent a locality, a ‘somewhere’, a terroir, are deeply steeped in, and injected with humanity’s response to, and relationship with a place, and with the minutiae which are its perceived components.  Take the example of a basic element of any landscape – the name for that piece of low key human geography by which we move around or make connections within a locality.  I mean a track, lane, alley/alleyway, footpath, pathway, path, bridleway, by(e)way, trail, route, passage, entry, drang, twitten, ginnel, gennel, snicket, jitty, jigger, gulley …  I’m sure there are many, many more deeply descriptive words.

In recent days, I have been looking for heralds, forerunners, outriders, precursors, omens, auguries, messengers – ah, I must mean harbingers – of spring.  To be honest there is not a lot around at the moment, but one stands out – the humble hazel catkin, those funny little loofahs of spring hope. 

They start out as tiny little, firm, textured (layered like pine cones), greenish brown, stiff, mini caterpillar shapes, sticking out from their twigs at awkward angles.  In Terroir’s terroir, they have been making their presence felt since at least November, but they are easy to overlook and, as the caterpillar is to the butterfly, so the young catkin is to its fully ripe counterpart – perceived as lacking in inspirational wonder!  The catkins are the male flowers – visually dominant – and the females are shy, retiring, home lovers (snuggled into a ‘bud’) with, (when they are ready) just their cream or red ‘rara skirts’ or styles sticking out to receive the windblown pollen from the boys.   

By now, in Terroir land, the boys are maturing, opening out to let the wind take their pollen and start the process of producing the autumnal hazel nuts.  Each catkin is actually a cluster of over 200 individual flowers, enough to supply sufficient pollen to accommodate the wasteful process of breeze based fertilisation. 

But for winter-weary humans, they make a brave sight, cheering passers-by and telling us that spring is – now, what’s that cliché? – ah yes, just around the corner.  A corner which is gradually moving to the dance of global warming.  So far, our stalwart hazel bushes seem to have coped. 

*© timku Hazel in the Winter Sun Female Hazel Catkin https://www.flickr.com/photos/34972638@N07/24609008162/in/photolist-DuBALb-kzRGmr-dTh6Aj-qupxVC-2kgZVxU-jPbHXL-21DjLry-konHWz-FtFxKC-kzRJXF-Pn6aB3-jneVYP-8UiHT-8UiHS-8UiHR-2cx9zzX-D1mkBb-4vqvq6-7V8zdG-S5eX59-7V8zdJ-j7tnAs-9FqYjL-FH6Qw3-24u3xtc-4v1LDB-23YMZW7-BJX4kz-Fu3BjP-6hRgfi-22pGuyD-isYZdY-qzGpck-9qDmoT-pUpQ8z-9idorg-qmLAF2-4ksmVX-kusxNF-D8VWxV-BRkodf-9QBXgP-7HNait-8YSJPB-r4VRs-rKgTNE-rwbRcy-mpcfAP-RBLCAT-D4yBk/

Getting back to the linguistic part of this blog, I wondered what local words were used to describe these mood-lifting ‘lambs tails’?  Various sources suggest that the origin of the mainstream English word is the Middle Dutch Katteken or little cat; so is the name ‘Catkin’ harking back to tails again?

As a starting point, I picked up Robert Macfarlane’s book Landmarks.  When I first started reading this book, I was filled with anticipation for the treasures within - and sadness that someone else had penned the book Terroir would love to have written! Each chapter is succeeded by a glossary of terms gathered from a whole variety of sources, geographies, languages and dialects.  Most are topographical rather than botanical (Uplands, Coastlands etc) but the penultimate glossary is entitled Woodlands, and I turned to it with enthusiasm.  Sadly, it doesn’t get down to species level and even the section headed ‘Branches, Leaves, Roots and Trunks’ makes no mention of flowers or fruit.  Even the ‘Gift Words’ (ie words donated by others), are seldom plant specific although I did enjoy ‘bog-gazels’ or ‘bogarves’ for hawthorn berries (Sussex) and ‘snotty-gobs’ for yew berries (Hertfordshire)!

Wandering the by(e)ways of the internet, however, I came across this fascinating page: ‘Synonyms for Catkin. (2016). Retrieved 2021, January 27, from https://thesaurus.plus/synonyms/catkin The back stories (origins, sources, etc) are lacking, but it makes good reading. Here is the list; the comments are Terroir’s:

Aglet or Aiglet [suggested miss spelling of aiguillette - the braids on military unforms; this seems very convincing; Collins dictionery also adds ‘or any ormamental pendant’]

Ament or Amentum [sources refer to it as another name for catkin, botanical, or meaning someone with Amentia which is, appaently severe congenital mental disability; oh dear…]

Flower [obvious]

Infloresence [botanical, obvious]

Shackle [tethered?]

Tassel [obvious]

So, now it’s your turn. Please tell us about any hazel related names, stories or folklore. I can feel a historical botany coming on.