animals · Plants and Herbs

Tooth Folklore and Magical Properties

The other day, my Handsome Assistant and I had the chance to watch the movie Moon Garden. It’s a beautiful, strange, surreal, very dark fantasy about a (very parentified) little girl who suffers an injury and falls into a coma. While she’s comatose, she has to find her way through an industrial horror landscape to make it back to her family. The entire movie is done with practical effects, and it has some of the most striking imagery — and villains — I’ve ever seen. Particularly the main antagonist: Teeth.

(Admittedly, I was a bit disappointed that Teeth turned out to be the only villain. The Mud Witch looked extremely cool and I would very much have liked for her to have a bigger role.)

Teeth is a manifestation of emptiness. An anthropomorphization of a chattering teeth toy and her grandpa’s dentures. Human teeth can also be transient — the little girl is at the age when she’d start to lose her baby teeth, and Teeth’s decayed-looking maw is an embodiment of neglect.

Outside of Moon Garden, teeth still have meaning and symbolism. They’re useful, beyond their biological function. They’ve been at the root of myth, legend, and folklore for as long as humanity’s had any of those things (or teeth, for that matter).

In the US, western Europe, and other areas with a heavily European influence, there’s the Tooth Fairy. When children lose baby teeth, they’re told to put them under their pillows. Then, at night, the Tooth Fairy is said to come to trade a little bit of money for the lost tooth.
(Traditionally, anyway. Today, some parents have moved away from giving money and give small toys, stickers, or other treats as “payment” instead.)
In Italy, the Tooth Fairy is a little mouse named Topolino. In France, La Petite Souris. In Spain and other Spanish-speaking countries, El Ratoncito Perez. In Scotland, it’s a white rat.

Finland has a modern figure (or figures) known as Hammaspeikko, or “tooth troll.” The tooth troll isn’t a Tooth Fairy like figure, though. Instead, it’s an explanation for dental cavities that comes from a 1949 Norwegian children’s book. Eating candy lures in tooth trolls, and these trolls drill holes in teeth. Luckily, they can be scared away by brushing.

Close up of a mugger crocodile in Bangladesh.
He’s grumpy because he’s got all them teeth and no toothbrush. Photo by RatuL CR♠️ on Pexels.com

Interestingly, the Tooth Fairy doesn’t really have direct parallels in European myth or folklore. Some folklorists say that the idea comes from an old Scandinavian practice of tand-fé, a “tooth fee,” but this is unlikely. In the Norse Eddas, tand-fé is described as ritual in which a child’s mother would give them a small amount of money for the loss of their first baby tooth — no fairies involved.

Ditto for other old practices for dealing with baby teeth. In England during the Middle Ages, children were told to throw their baby teeth in the fire. If they didn’t burn them, they’d spend their afterlife searching for all of their lost teeth.

For the most part, the Tooth Fairy, tooth-burning, and tooth-purchasing do seem connected to one core belief: The idea that those teeth need to be either accounted for or destroyed. There may be a good reason behind this (and it’s not as heartwarming as needing something to put in a baby book or keepsake box).

In spellcraft, there’s the idea of including some “personal concerns” (sometimes called taglocks) in order to help the spell reach and act on its target more effectively. These can be pretty much anything — a piece of jewelry worn by the target, a scrap of fabric cut from their clothing, a shoelace — but the best are physically connected to the target. That means nail clippings, hair, or teeth.
These can be used to very good effect — like sending healing to someone through a poppet with a lock of hair inside, or creating a kind of protective magical decoy — but can also be used for ill. Hexes, curses, jinxes, and other attacks work a lot better when they have a good idea of who they’re going to!

In other words, if you didn’t want anyone to work malevolent magic on your offspring, you had better either keep hold of those baby teeth or make sure they’re totally unusable. Children were regarded as a common target of things like the evil eye or the jealousy of spirits, so it’s not a huge leap from “don’t compliment babies too much or they’ll be cursed,” to “better hide all those baby teeth from witches, just in case.”

Alternatively, children’s teeth were sometimes treated as a kind of talisman. In this case, you wanted to keep those teeth for good luck and success in battle.

Close up of hippopotamuses in a river. One hippo's mouth is open, showing their very impressive teeth.
The “success in battle” bit might work better if the teeth in question come from a juvenile hippopotamus, just saying. Look at those things! Photo by William Warby on Pexels.com

Sometimes, mothers would even swallow lost baby teeth, or encourage their children to swallow them.

Another common ritual involved offering the lost tooth to an animal, typically a rodent or other animal with strong teeth. The idea was that, if the animal received the tooth along with the appropriate prayers, the child’s teeth would grow in as strong as the animal’s.

Close up of a nutria, showing its strong, orange-hued teeth.
May your offspring have teeth as strong as those of the noble nutria. Photo by Petr Ganaj on Pexels.com

Teeth show up in more than just Tooth Fairy stories. In ancient Greek legend, the teeth of a dragon feature prominently in the story of the quest for the Golden Fleece and the tale of Cadmus.
King Aeëtes of Colchis demanded that Jason sow dragon’s teeth given to him by Athena in order to get the Golden Fleece. His daughter, knowing what was up, told Jason that warriors would spring up where the teeth were planted and, if he didn’t want them to turn on him, he needed to throw a stone between them. He did so, and the warriors turned on each other and battled to the death.
Cadmus, on the other hand, killed a dragon that served as the guardian of a spring dedicated to Ares, the God of War. Athena gave Cadmus half of the creature’s teeth and told him to sow them as he would seeds. He did so, and fierce warriors sprang up from the soil. He, like Jason, threw a stone into their midst and they all turned on each other. Only five remained standing, and they helped Cadmus found the city of Thebes.

In Chinese medicine, each tooth is said to be connected to a different organ through energy meridians. Pain in a tooth, then, indicates a problem or imbalance with that particular organ.

Ideally, you have a source of baby teeth. Otherwise, I’d strongly recommend against trying to seek them out elsewhere for magical purposes because 1) it’d hurt, B) it’s likely to be wildly unethical, and III) desecrating corpses is against the law.

A wild boar in close up shot, showing its curving tusks.
They might not be useful for biting, but those tusks are a defensive weapon nonetheless. Photo by Dario Fernandez Ruz on Pexels.com

That aside, human teeth are great taglocks for poppets, spell jars, and other workings. Still, all things considered, you’re probably better off sticking with a lock of hair or a few nail clippings.

Animal teeth are used for animal magic, or (in the case of canine teeth from predators) protection. They can be worn as amulets or talismans on their own or included in protective sachets.

Losing baby teeth is a rite of passage for most kids and parents alike. It’s a sign of growth and, depending on your culture, potentially a source of danger. Whether you still have your teeth saved in a keepsake box somewhere, or you’re creating ways to make visits from the Tooth Fairy special for your own kids, you’re partaking traditions with ancient roots.
(No pun intended.)

animals

The Magical Meaning and Symbolism of Frogs

If you’re tired of bugs, you’re in luck! This week, we’re taking a look at frog symbolism.

A green tree frog, clinging to a metal post under a path light. Some purple asters are visible in the background.

My Handsome Assistant and I went for a walk the other day. It was late in the afternoon, and the weather was perfect for a little stroll to see if the leaves had started changing in earnest yet. While we didn’t see much autumn color yet (which is to be expected, as leaves change a bit later year by year), we did see something else that was pretty cool — a little green tree frog!

He’d camped himself out just under the glow of a path light. It was an ingenious move, since it gave him a virtually all-you-can-eat buffet of bugs attracted to the glow. He held still while we did a little amphibian photoshoot, with a backdrop of asters.

Frog symbolism is one of the most ancient and enduring features of civilizations around the world. According to The Book of Symbols, “[f]igures with a frog’s body and a woman’s face and genitalia have been found dating to as long ago as 6000 BCE, suggesting that the notion of a frog goddess is extremely ancient.” The book also notes that there are similarities in the posture of a human giving birth and a frog sitting.

The above similarity may be part of why frogs are sacred to the Egyptian goddess Heqet, a Goddess of Fertility. Frog symbolism is also rooted in the yearly flooding of the Nile, when the water (and nutrient-rich silt it brought with it) brought greater fertility to the land. Frogs also reproduce in water, depositing their eggs either in the water directly, or on leaves where their spawn can easily fall into water upon hatching.
Interestingly, Heqet may be the origin of the name of the Greek Goddess of Witchcraft, Hecate.

Southward, in South Africa, the ǀXam-ka ǃʼē people had traditions surrounding frogs and menstrual seclusion. The frog deity !Kwah was said to watch over women and girls during this time. If any were to defy this deity and leave seclusion, they and their families would be turned into frogs.

green and white frog resting on brown tree branch
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In Mayan culture, frogs were rainmakers. They held an important role in the story of Kumix, a deity of maize, the sun, and rain. In some versions, they act as directional rain deities that reside on mountains. Here, again, is a connection between frogs and life-giving water — however, rather than the flooding of the Nile, the water comes from rain.
In Diné legend, frog symbolism is also associated with the cardinal directions. In the story of the creation and destruction of the First World (which we mentioned in the post about wasps), Frog lived in the sea to the west. Frog was also one of the creatures who became upset when the world grew crowded and chaotic.

In Hindu legends, frogs are associated with the sun. Bheki is a frog that represents the sun on the horizon. It’s said that Bheki was originally a beautiful woman. A king fell in love with her, and she agreed to marry him on one condition: He must never, ever show her a single drop of water. One day, Bheki grew tired and asked for a drink. Her husband brought her water, and she sank out of sight like the sun beneath the water.

vibrant red eyed tree frog on leaf
Photo by Ivan Rojas on Pexels.com

In feng shui, the Jin Chan (金蟾) is a charm for prosperity. Often translated as “money frog” or “money toad,” it is most commonly represented as a bullfrog with two forelegs and one hind leg, seated on a pile of coins with another coin in its mouth. This charm is said to protect against bad luck and help draw wealth into the household. For this reason, it shouldn’t be placed facing an exterior door, or in the bathroom or kitchen (where water flows out of the house).
While the connection between frog symbolism and water isn’t really explicit here, there are connections between fertility and prosperity through the concept of multiplying one’s desires or good fortune. In Egypt, the Nile floods, and the land’s fertility brings prosperity. In Meso- and South America, rain brings fertility to the land, and the land’s abundance brings prosperity.
In Chinese mythology, the Jin Chan is also connected to the moon — it’s said to appear on a full moon, near homes and businesses that are about to experience positive financial news. As the moon is also intimately connected to water through the tides, this may be another frog-to-water-to-prosperity connection.

Given the ubiquity of frog symbolism in myth and legend, it’s next to impossible to recount all of them here. Fortunately, a number of common threads arise with just a little bit of scrutiny. Frogs reproduce in water and are active where water is abundant. They’re thus connected to fresh, life-giving water, rain, and the fertility of the land. Through this, it’s also possible to see connections to abundance, prosperity, and fertility in general.

Sometimes, frogs also play key roles in the creation of people or civilization. This is particularly interesting, because it often involves a transformation in either direction. In Myanmar, the Va people believed that their ancient ancestors were two tadpoles that grew into frogs, and eventually into ogres. These ogres consumed all kinds of animals until, one day, they ate humans. From that day forth, they were able to reproduce and create human offspring — the ancestors of the Va.
On the other hand, in Vietnam, Bahnar legend tells that a human became a frog and ascended to the heavens to become a God of Agriculture.

photo of green frog on leaf
Photo by Lexo Salazar on Pexels.com

On the other hand, frog symbolism isn’t always positive or life-giving. In Christian mythology, frogs are one of the plagues of Egypt and spew forth from the mouths of monsters.
Frogs are also common fodder for witchcraft folklore. How many times have you heard stories of witches turning someone into a frog or toad? Even children’s tales like The Frog Prince revolve around such a transformation. You can see this reflected in modern media, too — ask anyone who’s ever played one of the older Final Fantasy games. Getting turned into a frog in the middle of a battle sucks.

Through their connection to water (and their own abundant procreation), frogs are tied to fertility. This isn’t just the fertility of animals and humans, but of the land itself.

Frog symbolism is also connected to cleansing, renewal, or purification. This is through frogs’ connection to water, but also because of their unique biology: Frog skin is a respiratory surface. It’s very permeable, and very susceptible to damage from imbalances in water chemistry. Frogs can’t thrive where things are dirty, and they are one of the “canaries in the coal mine” for water pollution.

Macro photography of green frog in water. Frog symbolism is closely connected to cleanliness, purity, and renewal because of their connection to water.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Frogs also represent transformation, of a variety of types. There’s the very obvious transformation from egg, to tadpole, to froglet, to frog, but there’s also more subtle, alchemmical ideas at play. As The Book of Symbols explains,

In dreams and fairy tales the frog arrives, quite suddenly, out of water somewhere, just as an aspect (often princely) of self-substance emerges from the waters of the unconscious, but is not yet in fully conscious, recognizable form. In many such fairy tales, this fertile little being from the watery regions must be accepted and attended to in its frog form, however unattractive or odd it may seem, and inevitably it transforms into the soulful prince or princess.”

Dreaming of frogs is said to herald a change or transformation. If the frog catches a bug, it symbolizes seizing an opportunity. If you eat the frog, it represents an unpleasant task that needs doing.
On the other hand, seeing leaping frogs can represent an inability to commit to a person, idea, or situation.

Frogs are one of our longest-enduring symbols, and frog symbolism is present in everything from creation myths to children’s tales and poems. Not only do these creatures help keep pest populations in check, they’re also powerful symbols of renewal, transformation, fertility, and prosperity.

animals

The Magical Meaning of Wasps

Last week was spiders, this week we’re doing wasps.

Why wasps?

In temperate climates, late summer and early autumn when many wasps (the eusocial ones, at least) start losing direction. Like kids on spring break, they no longer have the structure they once did — the nest is likely done producing larvae, the newly-created queens are getting ready to hibernate, and the wasply lifecycle comes to a close to start back up in spring. This means that the workers, if they haven’t died already, are about to.

The lack of larvae to raise also means that the wasps’ dietary habits shift. Where babies need protein in order to grow big and strong (and adequate protein is so important, worker wasps have been observed shoving drones into lockers in order to make sure that the larvae eat first), the workers have already done all the growing they’re going to do. They don’t need a high protein diet; they need carbs for energy. This often puts them in conflict with humans, as sugar sources start to wind down a bit this time of year and humans are generally a veritable bonanza of sugary treats.

A close-up of a wasp's face.
Photo by David Hablu00fctzel on Pexels.com

So, if you’re noticing larger numbers of more aggressive wasps than usual, that’s probably why. They’re hungry, and they’re on a kind of wasply rumspringa. Don’t worry, though — they won’t be around much longer. It’ll get cold, the workers will die off, the queens will hibernate, et fin.

Right now, we have a wasp nest beneath a tree stump. We considered removing it, but it’s late enough that nature will take its course pretty soon, and then we can fill in the cavity to keep anyone else from setting up shop.

In honor of the last of the summer’s wasps, here are various bits of folklore, mythology, and magical properties associated with these creatures.

Insects feature pretty frequently in Japanese folklore and mythology, wasps included. In one story, the deity Susanoo-mikoto ordered his son-in-law, Ôkuninushino-kami, to sleep in a room infested with wasps and centipedes. Fortunately, Suseribimeno-mikoto, his wife, gives him an insect-repelling cloth to protect him.

One of the plays of Aristophanes, an ancient Greek playwright, is titled The Wasps. In it, the titular wasps are a group of jurors. Bdelycleon, son of Philocleon, has imprisoned his father after many, many unsuccessful treatments for Philocleon’s seeming addiction to trials. When the jurors (Philocleon’s comrades) learn of his imprisonment, they swarm Bdelycleon like wasps. Bdelycleon eventually gives in, and turns the house into a “courtroom” where his father can judge household disputes.

In Boticelli’s painting Venus and Mars, there’s a small wasp nest far to the right, near Mars’ head. Wasps are associated with Mars (and his Greek counterpart, Ares) as animals that are considered aggressive or warlike, but this may not be why Boticelli chose to include them. The painting may have been commissioned by the Vespucci family (from the Italian “vespa,” or “wasp”), and the inclusion of the wasp nest may have been a nod to that.

Detail from Botticelli's Venus and Mars, showing Mars' face and an adjacent wasp nest.

Ichneumon wasps, a family of parasitoid wasps, were also instrumental in strengthening Charles Darwin’s doubts about the existence of a benevolent creator:

I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created the Ichneumonidae with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of caterpillars[.]

I have seen multiple references to wasps as sacred animals in Indigenous American cultures, but haven’t found many specific examples of this — particularly examples sourced from Indigenous peoples themselves. This isn’t to say that this isn’t true, but any references to wasps as sacred, totemic, or spirit animals in generic “Native American” culture should be taken with a grain of salt. (North America is kind of a huge place.)
One specific story comes from the Diné people and tells the story of the First World — known as Ni’hodilhil, the Dark or Black World. This was a black place surrounded by four cloud columns: Black Night to the north, White Dawn to the east, Blue Daylight to the south, and Yellow Twilight to the west. The First Man, along with a perfect ear of white corn, was formed at the place where Black Night and White Dawn met. The First Woman, along with a perfect ear of yellow corn, was formed where Blue Daylight and Yellow Twilight met.
At that time, creatures did not have their present forms. They were as mists, but would one day become their present shapes.
In the story, the first man and first woman meet and live together. Gradually, other beings appear. First is Great-Coyote-Who-Was-Formed-in-the-Water, who hatched from an egg and knew all that went on under the water. Second was another Coyote, First Angry, who insisted that he had been born first, and brought witchcraft into the world. After that, four more beings appeared. They were the Wasp People, and they knew how shoot and harm others. They were followed by the Red Ants, the Black Ants, and many others, until the world became crowded and was full of arguing.
Eventually, the Gods became angry and the occupants of the First World were forced to leave. The First Man planted a reed in the east, which grew tall and strong. The First Man, First Woman, and all of the other creatures of the world climbed up it to safety, to the Second World.

A black and yellow wasp on a white flower.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Ahti, a little-known Egyptian deity, was represented as a hippopotamus with the head of a wasp. Not much is known about her, though her interesting composition has led some scholars to associate her with chaos, disorder, and spite.

In Hindu mythology, wasps are associated with Bhramari — the goddess of bees. Bees, wasps, hornets, spiders, termites, mosquitoes, and biting flies cling to her body, and she could send them out to attack for her. In the tenth book of the Devi Bhagavata Purana, there is a powerful asura named Aruna. He performs a penance to Brahma, and, in return, Brahma makes it so Aruna cannot be killed in war by any man, woman, weapon, bipedal creature, quadrupedal creature, or any combination thereof. Feeling suitably overpowered, Aruna called on other beings to attack the devas. He nearly succeeded in beating them, too, until Adi Parashakti appeared and began releasing bees from her hands. Calmly, she continued releasing insects that clung to her body, making her larger and larger and creating the divine form of Bhramari.
When all of Aruna’s army had been defeated except him, she released her insects upon him to tear him limb from limb.

John Gerard, a sixteenth century herbalist, had a method of tree divination using acorns. The technique involved finding an acorn at a specific time of year (likely autumn), breaking it open, and examining the contents:

  • If there was an ant inside, there’d be an abundant harvest in the coming year.
  • On the other hand, a worm that attempts to crawl away means a light harvest.
  • A spider was a harbinger of pestilence for humans.
  • A white worm was a harbinger of pestilence for animals.
  • If the worm thrashed and turned away, however, it meant the plague.
  • If there was a worm that “flew away” (perhaps by growing into an adult knopper gall wasp), it foretold war.
A wasp climbing on a mossy stick.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Some modern witches use deceased wasps as an ingredient in banishing or protective powders. Combine them with ingredients like salt, hot pepper, and garlic, and grind to a fine powder. Use to dress candles, sprinkle around borders, et cetera.

Wasps represent war, arguments, and violence. This is probably undeserved, as there are plenty of non-aggressive wasp species. (I mean, I woke up the other day with a little ichneumon wasp crawling on my leg. She was tiny, harmless, and seemed at least as confused as I was, considering both of us were A) in a bed and B) under a blanket.)

Wasps’ violence isn’t always unjustified, however. These creatures, and stinging insects in general, also frequently represent punishment and wrath. Even in the story of Bhramari, where wasps are part of the insect army that eventually defeat Aruna, they are part of the righteous, defensive wrath of the goddess.

They’re also symbols of strictly enforced boundaries and protection.

On the other hand, dreaming of wasps is said to represent evil and negative emotions. Dreams of being stung by a wasp may indicate envy. Killing a wasp in a dream represents bravery in overcoming the negativity or malicious actions of others.

Are wasps aggressive? They certainly can be, but this isn’t directionless aggression. In reality, they’re very protective. The trouble is, it’s often difficult for humans to tell where our territory ends and theirs begins, which frequently brings us into conflict. Still, wasps perform very important functions as pollinators and predators of pest insects, so it’s worth learning about your local wasp species and finding ways to coexist whenever possible.
Sometimes that long “stinger” is just an ovipositor, and that wasp is on the way to take care of your garden for you!

animals

The Magical Meaning and Symbolism of Wasps

Last week was spiders, this week we’re doing the magical meaning and symbolism of wasps.

Why wasps?

In temperate climates, late summer and early autumn when many wasps (the eusocial ones, at least) start losing direction. Like kids on spring break, they no longer have the structure they once did — the nest is likely done producing larvae, the newly-created queens are getting ready to hibernate, and the wasply lifecycle comes to a close to start back up in spring. This means that the workers, if they haven’t died already, are about to.

The lack of larvae to raise also means that the wasps’ dietary habits shift. Where babies need protein in order to grow big and strong (and adequate protein is so important, worker wasps have been observed shoving drones into lockers in order to make sure that the larvae eat first), the workers have already done all the growing they’re going to do. They don’t need a high protein diet; they need carbs for energy. This often puts them in conflict with humans, as sugar sources start to wind down a bit this time of year and humans are generally a veritable bonanza of sugary treats.

A close-up of a wasp's face.
This one’s weirdly cute. Photo by David Hablu00fctzel on Pexels.com

So, if you’re noticing larger numbers of more aggressive wasps than usual, that’s probably why. They’re hungry, and they’re on a kind of wasply rumspringa. Don’t worry, though — they won’t be around much longer. It’ll get cold, the workers will die off, the queens will hibernate, et fin.

Right now, we have a wasp nest beneath a tree stump. We considered removing it, but it’s late enough that nature will take its course pretty soon, and then we can fill in the cavity to keep anyone else from setting up shop.

In honor of the last of the summer’s wasps, here are various bits of folklore, mythology, magical properties, and the symbolism of wasps.

Insects feature pretty frequently in Japanese folklore and mythology, wasps included. In one story, the deity Susanoo-mikoto ordered his son-in-law, Ôkuninushino-kami, to sleep in a room infested with wasps and centipedes. Fortunately, Suseribimeno-mikoto, his wife, gives him an insect-repelling cloth to protect him.

One of the plays of Aristophanes, an ancient Greek playwright, is titled The Wasps. In it, the titular wasps are a group of jurors. Bdelycleon, son of Philocleon, has imprisoned his father after many, many unsuccessful treatments for Philocleon’s seeming addiction to trials. When the jurors (Philocleon’s comrades) learn of his imprisonment, they swarm Bdelycleon like wasps. Bdelycleon eventually gives in, and turns the house into a “courtroom” where his father can judge household disputes.

In Boticelli’s painting Venus and Mars, there’s a small wasp nest far to the right, near Mars’ head. Wasps are associated with Mars (and his Greek counterpart, Ares) as animals that are considered aggressive or warlike, but this may not be why Boticelli chose to include them. The painting may have been commissioned by the Vespucci family (from the Italian “vespa,” or “wasp”), and the inclusion of the wasp nest may have been a nod to that.

Detail from Botticelli's Venus and Mars, showing Mars' face and an adjacent wasp nest.

Ichneumon wasps, a family of parasitoid wasps, were also instrumental in strengthening Charles Darwin’s doubts about the existence of a benevolent creator:

I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created the Ichneumonidae with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of caterpillars[.]

I have seen multiple references to wasps as sacred animals in Indigenous American cultures, but haven’t found many specific examples of this — particularly examples sourced from Indigenous peoples themselves. This isn’t to say that this isn’t true, but any references to wasps as sacred, totemic, or spirit animals in generic “Native American” culture should be taken with a grain of salt. (North America is kind of a huge place.)
One specific story comes from the Diné people and tells the story of the First World — known as Ni’hodilhil, the Dark or Black World. This was a black place surrounded by four cloud columns: Black Night to the north, White Dawn to the east, Blue Daylight to the south, and Yellow Twilight to the west. The First Man, along with a perfect ear of white corn, was formed at the place where Black Night and White Dawn met. The First Woman, along with a perfect ear of yellow corn, was formed where Blue Daylight and Yellow Twilight met.
At that time, creatures did not have their present forms. They were as mists, but would one day become their present shapes.
In the story, the first man and first woman meet and live together. Gradually, other beings appear. First is Great-Coyote-Who-Was-Formed-in-the-Water, who hatched from an egg and knew all that went on under the water. Second was another Coyote, First Angry, who insisted that he had been born first, and brought witchcraft into the world. After that, four more beings appeared. They were the Wasp People, and they knew how shoot and harm others. They were followed by the Red Ants, the Black Ants, and many others, until the world became crowded and was full of arguing.
Eventually, the Gods became angry and the occupants of the First World were forced to leave. The First Man planted a reed in the east, which grew tall and strong. The First Man, First Woman, and all of the other creatures of the world climbed up it to safety, to the Second World.

A black and yellow wasp on a white flower.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Ahti, a little-known Egyptian deity, was represented as a hippopotamus with the head of a wasp. Not much is known about her, though her interesting composition has led some scholars to associate her with chaos, disorder, and spite.

In Hindu mythology, wasps are associated with Bhramari — the goddess of bees. Bees, wasps, hornets, spiders, termites, mosquitoes, and biting flies cling to her body, and she could send them out to attack for her. In the tenth book of the Devi Bhagavata Purana, there is a powerful asura named Aruna. He performs a penance to Brahma, and, in return, Brahma makes it so Aruna cannot be killed in war by any man, woman, weapon, bipedal creature, quadrupedal creature, or any combination thereof. Feeling suitably overpowered, Aruna called on other beings to attack the devas. He nearly succeeded in beating them, too, until Adi Parashakti appeared and began releasing bees from her hands. Calmly, she continued releasing insects that clung to her body, making her larger and larger and creating the divine form of Bhramari.
When all of Aruna’s army had been defeated except him, she released her insects upon him to tear him limb from limb. This story is especially interesting because the warlike symbolism of wasps is still present, but used in a defensive, benevolent sense.

John Gerard, a sixteenth century herbalist, had a method of tree divination using acorns. The technique involved finding an acorn at a specific time of year (likely autumn), breaking it open, and examining the contents:

  • If there was an ant inside, there’d be an abundant harvest in the coming year.
  • On the other hand, a worm that attempts to crawl away means a light harvest.
  • A spider was a harbinger of pestilence for humans.
  • A white worm was a harbinger of pestilence for animals.
  • If the worm thrashed and turned away, however, it meant the plague.
  • If there was a worm that “flew away” (perhaps by growing into an adult knopper gall wasp), it foretold war.
A wasp climbing on a mossy stick.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Some modern witches use deceased wasps as an ingredient in banishing or protective powders. Combine them with ingredients like salt, hot pepper, and garlic, and grind to a fine powder. Use to dress candles, sprinkle around borders, et cetera.

The symbolism of wasps generally revolves around war, arguments, and violence. This is probably undeserved, as there are plenty of non-aggressive wasp species. (I mean, I woke up the other day with a little ichneumon wasp crawling on my leg. She was tiny, harmless, and seemed at least as confused as I was, considering both of us were A) in a bed and B) under a blanket.)

Wasps’ connection to violence isn’t always unjustified, however. These creatures, and stinging insects in general, also frequently represent punishment and wrath. Even in the story of Bhramari, where wasps are part of the insect army that eventually defeat Aruna, they are part of the righteous, defensive wrath of the goddess.

They’re also symbols of strictly enforced boundaries and protection.

On the other hand, the symbolism of wasps in dreams is linked to evil and negative emotions. Dreams of being stung by a wasp may indicate envy. Killing a wasp in a dream represents bravery in overcoming the negativity or malicious actions of others.

Are wasps aggressive? They certainly can be, but this isn’t directionless aggression. In reality, they’re very protective. The trouble is, it’s often difficult for humans to tell where our territory ends and theirs begins, which frequently brings us into conflict. Still, wasps perform very important functions as pollinators and predators of pest insects, so it’s worth learning about your local wasp species and finding ways to coexist whenever possible.
Sometimes that long “stinger” is just an ovipositor, and that wasp is on the way to take care of your garden for you!

animals

The Magical Meaning of Spiders

(If you’re arachnophobic, you probably want to skip this one. Don’t worry — I’ll be back next week with some more non-spider related lore.)

This is Matilda. I was out checking for more ground candy (aka, the delicious maypops that fall off my porch’s vines when they’re ripe), when I happened to look up and realize that I was face-to-face with a massive orbweaver (Neoscona species).

A close up of a large, hairy orb weaver perched in the center of a web.

Later that afternoon, once she’d had a chance to build a sizeable web right across the upper part of my window, I very carefully opened the window to snap multiple pics of her from a variety of angles.
It was then that I realized that there was a fire truck and an ambulance in front of one of my neighbor’s houses.

(Note to neighbors: THERE WAS A COOL SPIDER. I PROMISE THAT I’M NOT A MANIAC.)

(Also the emergency vehicles left pretty uneventfully, so hopefully everyone is okay.)

*Ahem*

Anyhow, this is the time of year when sightings of these guys peak around here. So, in honor of Matilda, I figured now would be a good time to write a bit about the magical meaning of spiders.

In Greek mythology, the first spider was a woman named Arachne. She was a marvelously talented weaver — allegedly better than Athena herself. She challenged her to a weaving contest, and Arachne’s weaving was, indeed, very beautiful. However, while her weaving was flawless, Arachne had chosen to create a tapestry mocking the gods. (In some tellings, Athena is simply enraged by Arache’s pride.) Angered, Athena transformed her into a spider.

A close up of a jumping spider's face, showing their fuzzy pedipalps and big, black, almost puppylike eyes.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In Catholic Christian mythology, spiders are connected to faith. Saint Conrad of Constance, a German bishop, is said to have seen a spider fall into his cup during Easter Mass. While it was widely believed that all spiders were venomous (or, in this case, poisonous) Conrad drank the wine and trusted in his faith to preserve him.

Probably the best-known spider in mythology is Anansi, from the Ashanti people. He’s viewed as a cunning trickster figure. He’s so prominent, that he gave rise to the term “spider tales,” which encompasses several kinds of story within the Ashanti oral tradition.

In North America, spiders were viewed as either trickster figures, or ingenious creators. The Hopi and Diné people have Spider Grandmother, who plays a key role in the creation of the world.

Another close up of a very cute, fuzzy white jumping spider.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In Peru, spiders frequently appear in ancient artworks (including the famous Nazca lines). While the specific significance of these depictions is often uncertain, it is known that the Cupisnique people had a spider deity associated with weaving, nets, war, and power.

In Australia, spiders sometimes appear in art and as clan totems.

The people of Kiribati Island and the Republic of Nauru, of Micronesia, both have spider figures that play a central role in their creation mythology.

In Japan, there are spider-like yokai called ogumo, yatsukahagi, or tsuchigumo. Tsuchigumo translates as “earth spider,” but likely didn’t originate as a spider at all. Historian Yoshiyuki Takioto put forth the idea that tsuchigumo were local chieftains (described as short people with long limbs, who lived in caves, eschewed civilization, and disregarded the imperial court), These chieftains were most likely shamans.
The yokai tsuchigumo first turns up in medieval literature, as a spider-like figure 60 meters long. When killed, the heads of almost 2000 people fell from its belly.

In Scotland, spiders were an inspirational figure during the First War for Scottish Independence. After a series of defeats, Robert the Bruce hid in a cave. While there, he watched a spider struggle to climb a strand of silk. Despite failing over and over, the spider eventually succeeded. This gave him the encouragement he needed to go back into battle and eventually win Scotland’s independence.

A slender black and yellow spider perched on its web.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It’s often said to be bad luck to kill a spider that you find in your home. This has a (perhaps unsurprising) grain of truth to it — killing spiders in your house means that you’re opening yourself up to all of the much less desirable things that spiders eat. If an infestation of flies or ants looks like bad luck to you, then you might want to heed this bit of folklore!

In dream dictionaries, dreaming of spiders is believed to represent:

  • Feeling like an outsider — like a spider in a web in the corner of a room.
  • Wanting to be an outsider.
  • A protective force.
  • A strong or overbearing feminine figure.
  • Rewards for one’s hard work.
  • Unpleasant relationships. Relationships one can’t escape, a (usually feminine) person who is draining one’s energy, a conflict with an overbearing person.

However, dreaming specifically of a rainbow colored spider is said to point to a situation that you probably want to avoid.

Spiders have far-reaching symbolism. Across cultures, they’ve been everything from tricksters to cosmic creators, to the unfortunate fate of the proud.

In general, these animals are associated with industry and creativity. Spider webs come in an astonishing variety of shapes and sizes — from small, silk-lined burrows to impressive constructs that are as delicate as they are massive.

Strands of a spider's web, highlighted in the sunlight. There are trees and shrubs visible in the background.
Photo by Phil Kallahar on Pexels.com

They’re also associated with snares, webs, and trickery. Spiders who use webs to catch their food place them in places where they’ll be both efficient and unobtrusive — virtually invisible, until an unwitting insect (or unlucky hiker) bumps into them. Spiders who don’t use webs generally either rely on natural camouflage to hide them as they run down their prey, or conceal themselves and wait for the opportunity for ambush. In all cases, they are patient, diligent, and cunning.
This can be good for you, if you’re seeking to emulate the spider a la Robert the Bruce.
It can also be very bad, if you’re heading into a situation that may prove to be a trap.
As with all things, context is important when it comes to interpreting omens.

A close up of a jumping spider, on what appears to be a striped rug or blanket.
Jumping spiders are ambush predators. Photo by Skyler Ewing on Pexels.com

Spiders are also connected to resiliency. No matter how many times their webs are destroyed, they rebuild them. They get knocked down, and they climb right back up again.

To an extent, spiders are also symbols of healing and rebirth. A spider can lose a leg or two and (if they survive the injury without losing too much hemolymph) will regrow them with subsequent molts.

Not a lot of people like spiders. Personally, I was never a fan of them — they terrified me as a kid. Eventually, I forced myself to take an interest in them, their body language, and their habits. I’m glad I did, because they’re really beautiful, fascinating, helpful creatures when you get right down to it.

animals

The Magical Meaning and Symbolism of Spiders

(If you’re arachnophobic, you probably want to skip the whole “symbolism of spiders” post. Don’t worry — I’ll be back next week with some more non-spider related lore.)

This is Matilda. I was out checking for more ground candy (aka, the delicious maypops that fall off my porch’s vines when they’re ripe), when I happened to look up and realize that I was face-to-face with a massive orbweaver (Neoscona species).

A close up of a large, hairy orb weaver perched in the center of a web.

Later that afternoon, once she’d had a chance to build a sizeable web right across the upper part of my window, I very carefully opened the window to snap multiple pics of her from a variety of angles.
It was then that I realized that there was a fire truck and an ambulance in front of one of my neighbor’s houses.

(Note to neighbors: THERE WAS A COOL SPIDER. I PROMISE THAT I’M NOT A MANIAC.)

(Also the emergency vehicles left pretty uneventfully, so hopefully everyone is okay.)

*Ahem*

Anyhow, this is the time of year when sightings of these guys peak around here. So, in honor of Matilda, I figured now would be a good time to write a bit about the magical meaning and symbolism of spiders.

In Greek mythology, the first spider was a woman named Arachne. She was a marvelously talented weaver — allegedly better than Athena herself. She challenged her to a weaving contest, and Arachne’s weaving was, indeed, very beautiful. However, while her weaving was flawless, Arachne had chosen to create a tapestry mocking the gods. (In some tellings, Athena is simply enraged by Arache’s pride.) Angered, Athena transformed her into a spider.

A close up of a jumping spider's face, showing their fuzzy pedipalps and big, black, almost puppylike eyes.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In Catholic Christian mythology, the symbolism of spiders relates to faith. Saint Conrad of Constance, a German bishop, is said to have seen a spider fall into his cup during Easter Mass. While it was widely believed that all spiders were venomous (or, in this case, poisonous) Conrad drank the wine and trusted in his faith to preserve him.

Probably the best-known spider in mythology is Anansi, from the Ashanti people. He’s viewed as a cunning trickster figure. He’s so prominent, that he gave rise to the term “spider tales,” which encompasses several kinds of story within the Ashanti oral tradition.

In North America, spiders were viewed as either trickster figures, or ingenious creators. The Hopi and Diné people have Spider Grandmother, who plays a key role in the creation of the world.

Another close up of a very cute, fuzzy white jumping spider.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In Peru, spiders frequently appear in ancient artworks (including the famous Nazca lines). While the specific significance of these depictions is often uncertain, it is known that the Cupisnique people had a spider deity associated with weaving, nets, war, and power.

In Australia, spiders sometimes appear in art and as clan totems.

The people of Kiribati Island and the Republic of Nauru, of Micronesia, both have spider figures that play a central role in their creation mythology.

In Japan, there are spider-like yokai called ogumo, yatsukahagi, or tsuchigumo. Tsuchigumo translates as “earth spider,” but likely didn’t originate as a spider at all. Historian Yoshiyuki Takioto put forth the idea that tsuchigumo were local chieftains (described as short people with long limbs, who lived in caves, eschewed civilization, and disregarded the imperial court), These chieftains were most likely shamans.
The yokai tsuchigumo first turns up in medieval literature, as a spider-like figure 60 meters long. When killed, the heads of almost 2000 people fell from its belly.

In Scotland, spiders were an inspirational figure during the First War for Scottish Independence. After a series of defeats, Robert the Bruce hid in a cave. While there, he watched a spider struggle to climb a strand of silk. Despite failing over and over, the spider eventually succeeded. This gave him the encouragement he needed to go back into battle and eventually win Scotland’s independence.

A slender black and yellow spider perched on its web.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It’s often said to be bad luck to kill a spider that you find in your home. This has a (perhaps unsurprising) grain of truth to it — killing spiders in your house means that you’re opening yourself up to all of the much less desirable things that spiders eat. If an infestation of flies or ants looks like bad luck to you, then you might want to heed this bit of folklore!

The symbolism of spiders in dreams includes:

  • Feeling like an outsider — like a spider in a web in the corner of a room.
  • Wanting to be an outsider.
  • A protective force.
  • A strong or overbearing feminine figure.
  • Rewards for one’s hard work.
  • Unpleasant relationships. Relationships one can’t escape, a (usually feminine) person who is draining one’s energy, a conflict with an overbearing person.

However, dreaming specifically of a rainbow colored spider is said to point to a situation that you probably want to avoid.

Spiders have far-reaching symbolism. Across cultures, they’ve been everything from tricksters to cosmic creators, to the unfortunate fate of the proud.

In general, these animals are associated with industry and creativity. Spider webs come in an astonishing variety of shapes and sizes — from small, silk-lined burrows to impressive constructs that are as delicate as they are massive.

Strands of a spider's web, highlighted in the sunlight. There are trees and shrubs visible in the background.
Photo by Phil Kallahar on Pexels.com

They’re also associated with snares, webs, and trickery. Spiders who use webs to catch their food place them in places where they’ll be both efficient and unobtrusive — virtually invisible, until an unwitting insect (or unlucky hiker) bumps into them. Spiders who don’t use webs generally either rely on natural camouflage to hide them as they run down their prey, or conceal themselves and wait for the opportunity for ambush. In all cases, they are patient, diligent, and cunning.
This can be good for you, if you’re seeking to emulate the spider a la Robert the Bruce.
It can also be very bad, if you’re heading into a situation that may prove to be a trap.
As with all things, context is important when it comes to interpreting omens.

A close up of a jumping spider, on what appears to be a striped rug or blanket.
Jumping spiders are ambush predators. Photo by Skyler Ewing on Pexels.com

Spiders are also connected to resiliency. No matter how many times their webs are destroyed, they rebuild them. They get knocked down, and they climb right back up again.

To an extent, spiders are also symbols of healing and rebirth. A spider can lose a leg or two and (if they survive the injury without losing too much hemolymph) will regrow them with subsequent molts.

Not a lot of people like spiders. Personally, I was never a fan of them — they terrified me as a kid. Eventually, I forced myself to take an interest in them, their body language, and their habits. I’m glad I did, because they’re really beautiful, fascinating, helpful creatures when you get right down to it.

animals · Uncategorized

The Magical Meaning of Opossums

We have a marsupial!

He appeared on the deck railing at 3 AM a few weeks ago, trundling along like one of the ROUS from The Princess Bride. (Which is to say, he moved like a very small man in an opossum suit.) I was so excited I almost shook my Handsome Assistant awake.

When he returned the next day to snuffle around the platform feeders, I actually went outside to offer him a small quantity of the kibble and dried bugs I use to feed the crows. He seemed pretty relaxed about the whole thing — just kind of leaned back and gave me a look that distinctly said, “Are you @#$% serious right now?

It was when my Handsome Assistant and I were watching Hellier a few days later that I realized that I’d never survive a monster movie. If I lived in Kelly, KY, and encountered the Kentucky Goblins, I would 100% have tried to give them Capri Suns and crackers and ended up 1000% dismembered inside an abandoned coal mine.

But my impending mortality at the hands of something I’m trying to give snackies to is neither here nor there. Since there is an opossum, I thought I would explore the magical meaning of these creatures.

The Virginia opossum is the source of the name “opossum.” It comes from a Powhatan word meaning “white animal,” which derives from a Proto-Algonquian word meaning “white dog.” The Spanish words for opossum, tlacuache and zarigüeya, derive from the Nahuatl tlaquatzin and Guarani sarigweya.

There is a large difference between opossums and possums (and Possum). Opossums live in the Americas, have skinny tails, and are grayish with white faces. Brush-tailed possums are from Australia, have fluffy tails, and are brownish. They are unrelated. The kind we have where I live, the Virginia opossum, is a member of Didelphimorphia (specifically, Didelphis virginiana).
Some say that, due to a colossal mix-up, we ended up with Australia’s possum and they ended up with ours. For the purposes of this post, I’m going to focus on the American opossums.

The Virginia opossum. Photo by Skyler Ewing on Pexels.com
The Australian brush tailed possum. Photo by Charles J. Sharp, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons.

It’s often said that opossums “play dead” when confronted with a threat. In reality, they have a few different responses. They’re more likely to attempt to flee, or puff themselves up, hiss, and try to appear more threatening. In some situations, an automatic anxiety response may cause them to feign death, during which their heart rate and breathing slow, they lie motionless, and they emit a foul-smelling fluid from their butts.

It’s also often said that opossums are voracious tick eaters. This is not true. They are opportunistic omnivores, and they do eat a ton of insects, but the study that gave rise to this myth involved opossums in a laboratory setting during which they didn’t have much other choice. (It’d be like covering a human in peanut butter, locking them in a room for several days, and then saying that their diet primarily consists of nut spreads.) When the stomach contents of wild opossums were analyzed, there actually weren’t any ticks in there.
Still! Even though they’re not the tick-decimating forces of nature folklore paints them to be, they’re a vital part of the ecosystem that helps control numerous other problem species. They’re basically organic garden pest control that screams at their own butts.

Interestingly, opossums aren’t often found in indigenous American folklore. When they appear in North American lore, they’re usually buffoonish characters. (In fact, their feigning death is often portrayed as stemming from embarrassment!)
In South America, however, opossums are clever tricksters. Some groups even regard Opossum as a Prometheus-like figure.

In modern symbolism, opossums are seen to represent cleverness. This may come from the belief that they deliberately choose to “play dead.” (They also have really weirdly dexterous little paws and opposable thumbs on their feet.)

They’re also widely regarded as symbols of patience, perseverance, and survival against the odds. They’re slow-moving and very deliberate animals, and, when in a “feigning death” state, can remain motionless for hours to wait out predators.

Sometimes, opossums are viewed as symbols of rebirth since they seem to come alive after playing dead.

Dreaming of an opossum is believed to represent an illusion. Something may not be what it appears to be. It can be a sign from your subconscious that a situation isn’t right, and you need to look closer to find the truth.

Opossums are commonly associated with the Moon and lunar magic. They’re nocturnal, and their silvery fur and pale faces connect them to these energies.

Personally, I don’t care if Francis (by the way, I named the opossum Francis) never eats a single tick. I’m very happy to share this garden space with him. He is my precious garbage son and I love him very much.

animals · Neodruidry · Witchcraft

The Magical Meaning of Feathers

Right about now, several species of birds have turned the area around my house into a kind of avian daycare. Again.

There are birds of every distinction turning up, kids in tow. Most of these kids look almost exactly like the adults — the starlings, for example, are fully the size of their parents and the only difference is that some still have their brown feathers. The baby crows look just like their parents, save for being a little smaller and still having pink corners on their beaks.

Since these babies are rapidly transitioning from their juvenile plumage to their full adult feathers, that means that they’re molting. You can find feathers everywhere — mostly fluffy white down, but the occasional primary feather, too. That’s why I thought that it might be a good idea to write a bit about the magical meaning of feathers.

A barred feather caught on a leaf of a tree.
Photo by Eftodii Aurelia on Pexels.com

Before I do, though, there’s one important caveat: All parts of native birds, including shed feathers, are protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918. This is to protect them from poaching by ensuring that there isn’t a legal market for their feathers, bones, etc. If you see a shed feather outside and you aren’t sure if it’s from a native species, invasive species, or domesticated species, leave it right where it is.

Feather pillows can also be a source of ominous omens. In Appalachia, death crowns or angel crowns are complex, crownlike whorls of feathers found in the pillows of the deceased. Usually, they’re only found after the person has died — it’s unlikely that anyone would go probing their pillow for death crowns otherwise. However, it is said that, if you find and break up a death crown in someone’s pillow, you can prevent their death.

In Celtic legend, feathers are commonly associated with the Otherworld. Some fairies are said to wear cloaks trimmed with red feathers, and The Morrigan wears a cloak of black ones.

The Morrigan isn’t the only goddess to have a feather cloak. Freyja, the Norse Goddess of love, war, sex, and magic, is said to have a cloak of gray falcon feathers (fjaðrhamr). This cloak grants her the ability to shape-shift into a falcon at will.

In Egyptian legend, Ma’at is associated with the Feather of Truth. She is the personification of truth, justice, and balance, and this feather is a representation of her. When a person dies, their heart is placed on a scale and weighed against this feather. The hearts of virtuous people are lighter than this feather, and they are allowed to pass on to Aaru, the Field of Reeds. The hearts of the wicked are heavy, and they are devoured by the goddess Ammit.

In Greek legend, Hera, the Goddess of marriage, family, and women, took the peacock as her sacred animal. She’s also the one responsible for the male peafowl’s beautiful, unusual plumage.
When Zeus seduced Io, he knew his wife would be jealous. He either turned Io into a white cow (another one of Hera’s sacred animals) to protect her from his wife, or Hera transformed her herself. Either way, Hera set the many-eyed giant, Argus Panoptes, to watch over her new prized cow. Having many eyes, he only needed to close a few at a time in order to sleep. This made him the perfect watchman… until Hermes came along.
Zeus asked Hermes to free Io. Hermes, in turn, disguised himself as a shepherd and used charms to put all of Argus’ many eyes to sleep at once, then killed him. Having lost her watchman, Hera immortalized him by placing his many eyes on the tailfeathers of the peacock.

A male peacock, tailfeathers spread to show their distinctive eye-spots.
Photo by Alexas Fotos on Pexels.com

In North America, Indigenous people have also attached significance to feathers for ages. Eagle feathers, in particular. (I remember being at a Powwow where another dancer I knew had dropped an eagle feather. It was retrieved from the ground with ceremony, treated as a fallen warrior. It was a very emotional experience, especially for her.)
Indigenous textile artists have also woven feathers into warm blankets and beautiful garments (sometimes called match-coats).

In modern witchcraft, feathers are commonly used as representations of the East or element of Air.

In addition to representing the East, Air, multiple deities, and various concepts of the Otherworld, feathers are also considered an “angel sign.” These “angel signs” are a collection of circumstances that are said to indicate that one’s guardian angels, spirit guides, or ancestor spirits are nearby. They include finding white feathers or shiny coins, hearing mysterious music, or smelling sweet, unexplainable smells.
It’s important to be careful with angel signs, however, since so many of them have mundane explanations. It’s very easy to get caught up in looking for signs, start interpreting everything as some kind of “angel sign,” and end up in spiritual psychosis, where the desire for significance blurs the line between reality and delusion.
Sometimes, an angel number is an angel number. Sometimes, it means you spend too much time looking at the clock. Similarly, sometimes, finding a feather is an “angel sign.” Sometimes, it means your neighborhood has stray cats.

Feathers are also subject to color symbolism. Finding a feather of a specific color is said to have a specific meaning. For example:

  • White feathers are positive omens, or indicate the presence of benevolent beings.
  • Black feathers symbolize protection.
  • Red feathers can represent protection, passion, or good fortune.
  • Blue feathers represent peace.
  • Green feathers symbolize abundance or fertility.
  • Yellow feathers represent joy.
  • Orange feathers symbolize creativity.
  • Ground feathers are omens of stability and groundedness.
  • Gray feathers, like blue ones, represent peace.

Of course, all of this is highly contextual. If you’re at a duck pond, the presence of white or gray feathers is unremarkable and not likely to represent anything but the presence of ducks.
On the other hand, finding a bright green feather in your yard, when you don’t have an abundance of green birds in your area, may be a bit more significant.

Feathers represent all kinds of things, but their primary association is with the fine line between this world and the others. They are tools of shapeshifters and symbols of creatures capable of traveling between worlds. If you find a feather outside, appreciate it for its beauty, see if you can identify what species it came from, and leave it be to return to the soil. If you work with feathers in your practice, source them from pets or well-treated backyard fowl.

animals · life

The Magical Meaning of Grackles

The first time I saw a grackle, I mistook it for a crow for a split second. It was only when I noticed its long tail and absolutely furious facial expression that I was like, “Oh.”

While grackles are typically pretty gregarious birds, we have a single male boat-tailed grackle (Quiscalus major) that visits the back yard here. He’s very pretty — black at first blush, but iridescent shades of peacock blue, bronze, and violet when the sun hits just right. Unlike crows, he also has light eyes. (Which, I think, lends to the whole expression thing.)

A grackle, with a classic irritated expression.
A male grackle. Photo by Gabriel Espinoza on Pexels.com

He’s usually very difficult to get a picture of, since he’s nothing if not wary and easy to startle. Lately, he’s been coming closer to the kitchen window and displaying more curiosity. I thought it might be a good time to write a post dedicated to these beautiful, interesting birds.

Most grackles move in large groups, called “plagues” or “annoyances.” This might seem unfair — worse than a murder of crows, even, or an unkindness of ravens — but it likely comes from their ability to decimate corn harvests. They’ll show up to follow behind plows in order to grab the turned-up worms, insects, and mice that wind up in the furrows (which isn’t really a bad thing, if you’re a farmer) but they’ll also descend on ripe corn to feast on the grain.

Grackles can be a bit of a problem for bird feeders, too. Smaller than crows, they’re quite happy to avoid the work of digging up worms and bugs and instead go for the nice, nutritious seed in a feeder. Where a crow or other, larger bird will ignore things like thistle and millet, grackles will dive right in. This can end up leaving nothing for seed-eating songbirds, so many people aren’t too stoked about seeing a crowd of grackles turn up in their yards.

Nonetheless, these birds have an important role. Unlike many small songbirds, which primarily feed on seeds and don’t dig up burrowing insects, grackles help control pests like invasive grubs and worms. During the time of year when seeds are the most abundant and make up a larger portion of their diet, they also help propagate them in their feces.

Not everyone finds these birds to be nuisances, either. In the late 1400s to early 1500s, the Aztec Emperor Ahuitztol purposefully introduced great-tailed grackles (Quiscalus mexicanus) into the capital Tenochtitlan and the Valley of Mexico. These birds were taken from the Aztec provinces of Totonacapan and Cuextlan in the Totonac and Huastec regions of Mexico, and received plenty of human intervention to help them establish themselves and grow their numbers in their new home. They were well protected and well fed, which allowed their population to take root.
These birds were named teotzanatl, which roughly translates to “divine” or “marvelous grackle.” Certainly a far cry from calling them a plague or annoyance!

(This is far from the only case of something like this happening. Aztec emperors kind of had a thing for bringing in exotic plant and bird species, and even importing special gardening staff to help their new acquisitions thrive.)

Interestingly, these grackles were protected — not only by guards, but also by public shaming. It’s uncertain why this was so necessary, unless attempts to hunt the birds were legitimately an issue. This could have been because they’d become pests, or because their feathers were considered very valuable. Probably both.

A grackle, showing its light yellow eyes and brilliantly iridescent feathers. Its mouth is open and it looks genuinely offended.
A male grackle. Photo by Tina Nord on Pexels.com

Grackles are also the subject of an ancient legend. In it, Zapate the great-tailed grackle was unable to sing. Being a very clever, tricky bird, he stole songs from the sea turtle. This left the turtle without a voice, and the grackle filled with… well, all kinds of noises.

While they aren’t members of the corvid family, they share crow, raven, and magpie’s intelligence. They’re able to solve puzzles, catch fish, and will even clean the grills of cars in order to get at the tasty, tasty smushed bugs.

Grackles also seem to be uniquely equipped to detect the Earth’s magnetic field due to natural deposits of magnetite in their little heads. This may be helpful for navigation and migration.

In general, these birds are said to represent caution, resourcefulness, and community support. Be cautious, however — the appearance of a grackle is also considered a symbol of misfortune.

As with a lot of birds, you often have to pay attention to what they’re doing when you see them since their behavior can color their meaning.

For example, a bunch of grackles can represent friendship, community, and support. A single grackle, not so much.

A grackle foraging or stealing food can be a sign that you need to be resourceful. You may be entering a time when you’ll have to survive by your wits.

These birds also engage in a behavior called “anting.” There, they crouch and spread their wings over anthills. As the tiny insects scurry over them, they pick off mites and release formic acid, which helps repel pests. These birds will also fumigate themselves with everything from stolen moth balls to discarded cigarette butts — whatever keeps the feather mites away.
If you see a grackle anting or fumigating themselves, it may be a sign that it’s time for some reflection, spiritual cleansing, or actual decluttering. You might need to schedule some time to take inventory, clear some of the chaos from yourself or your environment, and make a fresh start.

A female grackle, displaying soft reddish brown plumage.
A female grackle. They lack the dark, iridescent feathers of the males, instead displaying beautiful shades of a rich brown. Photo by Connor kane on Pexels.com

No matter whether grackles are a welcome sight to you or not, these are brilliant, beautiful birds with a fascinating history. From dumpster scavengers to the protected birds of an imperial house, they have lived closely with humans and fulfilled many roles for ages.