THE FOLKLORE OF PLANTS: Aspen

Lisa Karen Miller

          In the Wasatch Mountains of Utah, there is a 106-acre stand of quaking aspens made up of 47,000 genetically identical stems.  Weighing in at 6 tonnes (1,000 kilograms), Pando (Latin for “I spread”) forms the largest single organism on earth by mass.

          It is estimated that Pando has been around for at least 14,000 years. An entire ecosystem of plants and animals has adapted to thrive in its shade and shelter. It is now being threatened by grazing deer, who are eating the smallest saplings.

          Aspen is one of the multitude of trees said to have been used for Christ’s cross.  When it realized for what dark purpose it was being cut down, it began quaking in terror.

          Because of its quaking, it takes its name from the Greek for shuttle.

          There is a road through the forest around Flagstaff, Arizona lined with these trees.  As you drive under them, it almost seems as if they are applauding your arrival.  

          A German tale has it that the holy family were once walking through a forest.  All the trees bowed with reverence, except the stubborn aspen.

          The Christ child, forgetting about forgiveness for a moment, cursed it, so the leaves began to quiver with fear.

          In Russia, aspen is laid on a witch’s grave, preventing her from rising up and taking to the night skies once more.

          One of aspen’s symbolic meanings is scandal. In 1622, a poet named P. Hannay used the aspen as a metaphor for women’s gossiping tongues:

“The quaking aspen, light and thin,

To the air quick passage gives;

Resembling still

The trembling ill

Of tongues of womankind,

Which never rest,

But still are prest

To wave with every wind.”

          Well now.

          Here’s a bit of gossip for you:  friend Hannay died in obscurity.

          The restless motion of the leaves is “produced by the peculiar form of the foot-stalks, and indeed in some degree, the whole tribe of poplars are subject to have their leaves agitated by the slightest breeze.”

          The Doctrine of Signatures proclaimed that aspen was both a preventative and a cure for ague – any fever or ailment that produced shivering.

          The latest research tells us that there aren’t enough trees on earth to offset our carbon emissions.

          And there never will be. 

          In spite of this dire prediction, I intend to do my duty this Earth Day and plant a tree or two.

          I do hope you’ll join me.

© Copyright 2023 Lisa Karen Miller