Folktales for Three Scottish Flora

Thistle

Once upon a time, there was a warrior flower. It was the mid-thirteenth century near Ayrshire, Scotland. A fleet of Norsemen had travelled to the region, plotting to conquer the land. The Norsemen left their ships at dark with the sly design of ambushing sleeping Scottish Clansmen; cunningly, they removed their shoes to tread stealthily upon the earth. Little did they know, this land was home to the mighty Cirsium vulgare — the Scottish spear thistle. As the fleet crept over the rippling fields, the flower readied its spiny defence. One soldier, upon viewing with vicious fervour the Clansmen’s encampment, stepped hard on the thistle, and his shriek pierced the cold black night. The Scotsmen, awakened, rushed to their weapons and valiantly defended their homeland, vanquishing the Norse. 

So reads, notwithstanding my narrative embellishments, the legend of the Scottish thistle. The thistle, Scotland’s national flower, has long been a symbol of resilience and valour. In 1687, King James VII founded the Order of the Thistle. To be appointed to the Order is the highest honour in Scotland. The Order’s motto is Nemo me impune lacessit, “No one provokes me with impunity.” These words are more than a testament to the hearty beauty of the thistle, not picked without injury; they sing out the unfaltering bravery of the Scottish nation. From the lowlands to the highlands, the thistle adorns moors, forests, and valleys. I remember in September, while trekking the Fife Coastal Path, I saw a thistle among the wind-wrecked grasses — it was standing tall, spikes poised, and so violently purple. That such a flower was once a medieval warrior feels only natural.

Heather

Calluna vulgaris, or common heather, is another native Scottish flower with mythological heritage. Heather is a hardy shrub, toughened to withstand highland weather.It blooms in lilac and, rarely, in white. White heather finds its folkloric roots in Malvina, the daughter of the Celtic bard Ossian. Malvina was a beautiful, kindhearted woman, engaged to the warrior Oscar. A day before their wedding, Oscar was slain in battle, and the messenger bearing news of his death gave Malvina a sprig of purple heather, on the late Oscar’s request. Malvina’s tears fell on the heather, turning it white. In her grief, she blessed the flower, that it may bring good fortune to those who find it, and that they should not suffer a similar tragedy as hers. As white heather is sacred, ephemeral in its rarity, to encounter it is to receive a divine grace of nature. 

Heather is also involved in faerie lore. It is said that white heather blooms out of a faerie’s final resting place. Faeries are known to live in the bells of heather, drinking up the plant’s honey. The heather lives in heathlands, moorlands, and mountains, defining the sublime highland landscape. In Celtic folklore, these are “thin places”: thresholds where the human realm and otherworld bleed and blend. The trees, brambles, and flowers that grow in these places often hold mystical significance; if you listen close enough, you may just hear the sleepy song of a faerie resting in the heather. 

Rowan

Sorbus aucuparia finds its mythological roots in Hebe, the Greek goddess of youth. In a moment of carelessness, Hebe lost her chalice of ambrosia, the nectar of the gods, to a league of demons. The gods sent an eagle to retrieve the chalice. During its wrestle with the demons, the eagle was said to have shed blood and feathers; where these met the earth, they became rowan trees. The bird’s feathers made the shape of the leaves, while the berries were the same colour as blood. 

The rowan is a tree of providence. Its power was said to come from its berries; not only is red the strongest colour for warding off evil, but each berry is also marked with a five-point star. This star, a pentagram, is an ancient protective symbol. It follows that the rowan was often used to ward off witchcraft and evil spirits, being made into amulets of crosses and loops. The crosses were often placed at the threshold of a house to keep out witches. The people of Strathspey, Scotland, would make a hoop out of rowan on May Day, when witches were particularly active. To protect their sheep and lambs from malign beings, they would herd sheep and lambs through the hoops. As rowan trees watch over the inhabitants of the houses they are planted near to, to harm a rowan, or cut one down, is a grave taboo. 

So be humble in the presence of nature’s blessings; the blooming things everywhere protect us in ways we will never know.

Illustration by Niamh McPartlin