I've never quite been the same since I learned about trovants. These are rocks, actual rocks, that not only 'grow' but MULTIPLY.
The most famous example can be found in the tiny village of Costeşti in Valcea County, Romania. Known locally as the 'living stones' they have been the backdrop to folktales for millennia.
Indeed they have been there much longer than people, coming into existence due to a series of earthquakes some 6 million years ago.
Trovants are composed of a hard stone core surrounded by an outer 'shell' of highly porous sand cemented in place by waters of the region rich in calcium carbonate. During heavy showers trovants absorb minerals from the rainwater which react with its own interior materials,
causing forms to appear on the surface. The pressure caused by the reaction spontaneously makes the rock 'grow' from the centre outwards at a rate of about 5cm every 1000 years.
Over long periods trovants can become huge. Because of the unusual way they form they often appear alien to the landscape surrounding them; giant cylinders or bulbous orbs. If the secretion is uneven they can appear to multiply and even move from one place to another.
Locals have long used the mysterious rocks to build tombstones, imbuing their immortality with great ceremonial meaning.
Trovants may also have root-like extensions and age rings when cut open, thereby seeming to have as much in common with living trees as inert geological phenomena.
The Trovants Museum and Natural Reserve in Costeşti is protected by UNESCO. Similar examples of the peculiar living rocks can be found in Russia, the steppes of Kazakhstan, and the Czech Republic.
This gravestone has been on my mind for some time, its inscription so perplexing and sinister: ‘Nameless - Be sure your sin will find you out.’ It stands at an angle in a tiny Wolds village churchyard not far from my Mum’s, and recently I went to find it.
Though the cemetery at St Andrew’s in Irby-upon-Humber is small, the ‘sinner’s grave’ is difficult to spot. Somewhat sunken, it stands not much more than a foot tall and the epitaph is losing its battle with moss. The wording is taken from the book of Numbers (32:23) in which
Moses restates the principle that misdeeds cannot be hidden from God.
Up close the tragedy becomes obvious: this is a child’s grave.
Easter, Passover and the vernal equinox; these spring festivals are not far away and I’ve been reading about The Three Hares Project, which since 2000 has been documenting a distinctive emblem seen across cultures and down the ages.
Its origins, meaning and sheer breadth of reach are as fascinating as they are mysterious.
The project was set up by three researchers: art historian Sue Andrew, cultural environmentalist Dr Tom Greeves, and film-maker and photographer Chris Chapman, as a non-profit aiming to record and research all known occurrences of the three hares motif.
Lighten the dry Jan blues by visiting the Jarramplas Festival, which takes place in Piornal, in the Spanish region of Extremadura every year on 19-20th January. As well as being a sight to behold it is also BYOT (bring your own turnip).
The focus of events is the costumed ‘cattle rustler’ named el Jarrampla, who wears a cloak of multicoloured rags and is adorned with a great horned mask. This villain, played by a lucky volunteer, runs around the 1,200-strong town banging a little drum while local people
throw turnips at him in an attempt to expel his general bad vibes for another year. Two tonnes of turnips if you want the specifics. Next day’s bruises must be about as colourful as the costume.
Earliest man established the sea to be in mysterious commune with the heavens and beyond our power to influence. Leonardo da Vinci thought that the tides to be the breathing motions of a large beast and tried to calculate the size of such a creature’s lungs.
Human imagination populated the world’s oceans with monstrum marinum.
Some, like the mermaid, are familiar and knowable, while others remain inscrutable and of impossible scale, like the legendary Scylla and Charybdis, the six-headed serpent and the great undersea colossus whose maw formed a whirlpool that could devour a ship whole.
Whether they heal, harbour ghosts or commune with the gods, The Bleeding Tree looks at the trees in our world and in the folklore we create to describe it. I became fascinated with trees that ‘bleed’ whether physical, like the red sap of the El Drago Milenario...
or ‘dragon tree,’ to the more figurative, those that bleed in sorrow, sacrifice or accusation.
Indeed trees can bleed in evidence of crime, as recorded in one of the great New England folk legends collected by the renowned folklorist Charles M. Skinner. Skinner reports on the origin of the Micah Rood apple variety, or ‘Bloody Heart Apple’,
The matter of matter; body disposal is not the only option when there are so many preservation methods for those inclined to live fast and leave a pretty corpse.
One Catholic tradition sought to preserve the physical state for as long as possible. These are the ‘incorruptibles,’ like Bernadette Soubirous, a miller’s daughter from Lourdes whose body has lain unravaged by time in a grotto since her death in 1879.
Catholicism has a strong tradition of reliquary; many pilgrimage traditions were created around body parts and bone fragments of dead saints.