Since childhood, I’ve felt a deep connection with the color green. It’s always seemed a bit mystical to me, standing out against all the other colors. For as long as I can remember, green has dominated my life. At times, it reached the point of absurdity—I might have green bedding, green slippers, a green backpack, green pens, green curtains, and green furniture all at once. In short, everything was green. With the color green, I feel a closeness to nature. I like to think that somewhere in the invisible world, tree fairies dwell, known in English folklore as the Green Ladies.
They make their homes in oaks, elms, willows, and yews. Sometimes they choose pines and hollies as their residences. Occasionally, they even settle in apple trees. One might think that the Green Ladies are benevolent beings, but that’s not entirely true. Their stern nature never misses an opportunity to frighten travelers.
When strolling in nature, you should remember to ask for permission before breaking a branch from a tree where a Green Lady resides. Otherwise, she may become angered. To gain the Green Ladies’ blessing, it’s best to plant primroses at the base of these trees.
I’m so fond of these fairies that I simply must share a fairytale about them! This story tells of three trees that grew on a hill. In these trees lived the Green Ladies, who loved to dance at night under the full moon. Near the hill stood a house where an old man lived with his three sons. When it came time for the old man to die, his children divided the estate into three parts. The eldest son took the largest piece of land, the middle son took a smaller portion, and the youngest was left with a narrow strip at the foot of the hill.
At his father’s request, each spring, the youngest son placed wreaths of honeysuckle at the foot of these three trees, and this helped him live without poverty. The elder brothers grew envious. Finally, the eldest cut down the trees on the hill to steal the younger brother’s good fortune. For his dark deed, he chose the day of the summer solstice. As soon as he raised his axe, the tree screamed. But the eldest brother didn’t stop and continued chopping. Suddenly, the tree fell on his head.
The middle brother claimed the lands of his elder brother and also decided to cut down the trees. The first tree was just a stump, he felled the second without trouble, but the last tree struck him on the head with a branch, killing him on the spot. After all this, all the lands passed to the youngest brother, who continued to place wreaths of honeysuckle and prospered more and more.
Do you like folklore? Then read my similar posts: Lughnasadh: Legends and Traditions and Scandinavian herbs.
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