Rowan — Rite to Freedom

ROWAN, by Ali Chapman

Let me introduce myself.
I am Rowan, Mountain Ash, the Lady of the Mountain.
In the Celtic calendar I represent this time of year.
At the tail end of winter I stand, energy stored and beginning to stir a little and awaken to new possibilities – I wonder if you feel it too.

Steeped in folklore and mythology, for centuries I have symbolised courage, protection and connection.
Qualities I hope to inspire in all of you who meet and greet me.
I am known as a portal tree – often placed at gates and thresholds – offering you the chance of going somewhere and leaving somewhere.
What a beautiful thought, isn’t it.
Am I drawing you in?

Red was considered the colour to fight evil and to protect, so my beautiful berries have long been a source of inspiration and comfort.
My leaves, beautiful, similar to the ash please the eye with symmetry, white flowers providing much needed early nectar in May.

You will find me almost anywhere, in parks, gardens, woods and hillsides, but where I excel are the elevated positions.
High on craggy, boulder strewn moorland ground I cling on – withstanding all that the harsh winter elements can test me with.
I have learnt to adapt to my environment, up on the high hillsides I am less likely to be grazed by deer and have been known to live up to 200 years.

If you come across me on a walk, place your hands on my smooth light grey bark – a portal, I can take you back if you wish.
Back to a time of your ancestors when I was revered.
The red of my berries full of vitamin C not only sustain the blackbirds, mistle thrush and fieldfare, but were used to make jelly to fight scurvy.
My hard wood lit your fires, made longbows, walking sticks, divining rods to find water.
This land is yours and mine – we belong.

The greatest wisdom that I can give you is my strength – strength that I get from being firmly rooted on this land.
My roots are my strength – going down deep and as wide as 7 metres.
I do not waver, even in the harshest winds I stand strong, being flexible enough to bend with the wind.
I withstand adversity.
The reason that I survive, at times alone without bird or beast on those craggy hillsides are my roots.
I am tenacious, a giver of gifts to sustain, I am a survivor, rooted on this land and so are you – feel your roots deep into the ground and remember you are welcome here.