Ne'er Cast a Clout

There is a Scottish expression, ‘Ne’er cast a clout ‘til May be oot’.  It basically means, don’t peel off your winter vest until the Hawthorn tree has flowered.  Literally, ‘Don’t throw off any cloth until the May flowers are out’.  Or you’ll catch a chill. 

Not catching a chill and keeping your kidneys warm were the big warnings of the day when I was a gal.  (That and ‘going to the bad fire’ if you were disobedient, but least said about that the better).  When you read about Chinese medicine and qi gong, the kidneys are super-important, in fact, they are the foundation of Life and hold the essence of life, Jing.  They are an area associated with fear.  One cure for seasickness is a hot water bottle held on the kidney area.  (Unfortunately, that only works when you are back on terra firma with a hot water bottle and a kettle).  Scientific proof, if proof were needed, that your grannie was right.  At the very least, about your vest.

The reason I mention this sartorially dire warning, is that this year, the hawthorn is not only ‘oot’, it has gone far beyond.  White-worked branches rollicking skyward in a juicy Shiva dance.  Multiple lacy arms, shaking their groove thangs, in a jingling invitation not just to cast off your vest, but go the whole hog, jiggle sky clad at the first full moon. (May 23^rd if you take a vest-casting notion).  The explosion of white May flowers has the propulsion of storm waves crashing on a lighthouse.  All that up and up and up energy.  I predict a riot.

Meanwhile, sycamore leaves have unfurled into ‘Tiller Girl’ curves of burlesque softness.  Swaying.  Dreamy as ostrich feathers in a fan dance.  Occasional peep-show of tree limbs beneath when the breeze teases.