The May Tree

As a May child, I’ve always felt a special kinship with the May Tree - the hawthorn. Right now, the hedgerows are festooned with celebratory garlands of blossom, nature heralding the coming of summer (and for me, it feels like a special birthday gift from the hedgerows!).

This past winter felt like a long one, didn’t it? But the hawthorn blossom looks magnificent in the recent sunshine we’ve been blessed with - dense clusters of flowers overflowing from the branches, almost hiding the bright green leaves.

You may have heard the old saying: “Ne’er cast a clout till May is out.” Some say it refers not to the month of May, but to the May Tree - hawthorn in full flower. Personally, I like to think of it that way. If you’re still wearing your winter woollies in this glorious warm weather, I salute your dedication to knitwear - but I think the hawthorn is calling us to turn our faces to the sun and embrace the joy of the season.

I’m lucky enough to have a hawthorn tree in my front garden, so I get a daily front-row seat as the buds form and burst into lavish cascades of blossom. There’s something wonderfully sumptuous about it - a tree so common, and yet so celebratory in bloom.

In folklore, hawthorn has long been linked with magic and good fortune - said to guard against illness and evil, and woven into May Day festivities and bridal boughs for generations. But don’t bring it indoors - that’s said to bring terrible luck!

Whether it’s standing alone and proud in a field, or woven into the tangled boundaries of the hedgerow, hawthorn is one of my best-loved trees. Tough, beautiful, and rooted in tradition - a true marker of May.