Where the forest murmurs : $b Nature essaysSharp, William
History
Where the forest murmurs : $b Nature essays
Sharp, William
Natural history -- Outdoor books
In Gaelic lands many an old name has been dropped from common use,
because thus associated with some shy and yet never-far divinity, and
so too the Finn and the Esth ceased to call the woodpecker Pikker
(a word so strangely like Picus) and thus it is that now the peasant
knows him only as _Tikka_. With the Romans, Picus the god was figured
with a woodpecker on his head, and all of us who have read Pliny will
remember the great store laid by the auspices of Rome on the flight and
direction and general procedure of this forest-traveller. Recently a
sculptor, I know not of what nationality, exhibited in Paris a statue
of the Unknown Pan, and on his shoulder perched a woodpecker. Was
this a reminiscence, or ancestral memory, or the divining vision of
the imagination? I have some fifty pages or more of MS. notes dealing
with the folklore and legendary names and varying ways and habits of
the fascinating woodlander, from his Greek appearance as Pelekas, the
axe-hewer (Aristophanes calls him the oak-striker)--whence no doubt
‘Picus’ and ‘Pikker’ and ‘Peek’ and the rest--to Latin Tindareas,
mortal father of Leda, to the White Woodpecker, the magic bird of
mediæval legend, to ‘der olle Picker,’ the horrible laughing god of
human sacrifice in ancient Prussia, to Pak-a-Pak, ‘the lost lover of
the woman in the oak,’ in a strange tale I heard once in the woods
of Argyll. But of all this I would recall to-day only that tradition
of the woodpecker which describes her (she is a wise-woman in the
folk-tales) as knowing where the spring-wurzel grows, that mysterious
plant of Pan and the sun with which one may open the faces of cliffs
with a breath, as did the deer-mother of Oisìn of the Songs, with which
too one may find the secret ways of Venusberg and behold incalculable
treasure.
For hark!... _Pak-a-Pak_, and the long cry of love! It is answered from
the listening woods! Here must ‘the spring-wurzel’ grow ... here, for
sure, are the green palaces of Venusberg, here, at very hand, are the
incalculable treasures of the awakened Forest.
THE WILD APPLE
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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