ONCE a year, it is customary to bring an abundance of foliage into our homes, most of which is firmly rooted in the garden for the rest of the year. The Christmas tree in the sitting room, along with the green and red of holly and ivy, have inspired festive colour schemes the world over.
Of all the plants that we associate with this time of year, mistletoe is the most mysterious. Its curious, pale green, leathery foliage -- little paddle shapes, branching stiffly in pairs from stems of almost the same texture as the leaves, and white berries that are almost translucent -- add a ghostly quality to the plant.
Christmas is one of the few occasions when we get a chance to see mistletoe up close, as it is a plant of curious habits, living high in the branches of its host tree. Its distinctive twiggy spheres seen against a wintry sky are one of the joys of the cold season and I always admire its enterprising nature.
Mistletoe can grow on a number of tree species, but especially the apple. Occasionally you see it on poplar, hawthorn or lime, weighing down those branches where it has been allowed to go unchecked by the Christmas harvest. A partial parasite, it gains most of its food supply from tapping into the sap of its host, although the chlorophyll in its leaves means that it is able to manufacture some food for itself.
In tropical or Mediterranean climates, hitching a ride in this way is a common means of survival, enabling plants to get closer to the light and away from predators at ground level. In colder, more northerly climes, however, it is unusual. Perhaps this is why, in so many northern countries, mistletoe has been revered as a sacred plant and has been invested with an air of mystery.
Strangely, the tradition that is most closely associated with mistletoe, the right to claim a kiss from anyone who strays beneath it, has been traced back no further than last century. Before then, violence rather than romance was more likely under the mistletoe.
Centuries ago pagan beliefs invested trees with a conscious personality, hence certain trees -- and what grew upon them -- became objects of worship. Mistletoe, along with rowan and hazel, was supposed to embody lightning and, in consequence, its mythical character held an exalted position in the botanical world. Lightning plants had a characteristic forked growth. The Swiss-German name Donnerbesen, meaning thunder-broom, refers to the local belief that is could protect a house from fire.
The druids called mistletoe ``all-heal'', and believed it was a panacea. In the 1st century AD, Pliny wrote: ``The druids hold nothing more sacred than the mistletoe and a tree in which it is growing. When discovered, it is gathered with great ceremony. They prepare a ritual sacrifice and bring up two white bulls whose horns are bound for the first time on this occasion. A priest arrayed in white vestments climbs the tree and, with a golden sickle, cuts down the mistletoe, which is caught in a white cloak. Then they finally kill the bulls, praying to God to render the gift propitious to those on whom he has bestowed it.''
To this day it is thought of as bad luck to put mistletoe on the ground and, because of its dark past, many believe that it is unsuitable for use in church.
Its connection with ritual, however, is wide and varied. In the 11th century mistletoe branches were carried from house to house on New Year's Day by young men and women as a gift of friendship and, earlier still, the plant was gathered with special attendant rites and was thought to be capable of curing diseases, overriding evil spirits and warding off many dangers.
Three centuries later mistletoe was referred to as Lignum crucis, since the cross was believed to be made from its wood. In some countries, a mistletoe garland was hung up in the house as the clock struck midnight on New Year's Eve. It was left there all year, to bring good luck to the house. The previous year's bough would be taken down and burnt. Some people believed that if you planted mistletoe and it grew, your daughters would never marry.
Since it cannot be cultivated commercially, mistletoe is still gathered from apple orchards. I always hope that the branches I buy haven't been taken from the wild and, every year, I try planting a few berries in the cracks of an old apple tree, though none has grown to date.
Superstitiously, I worry about cutting it myself; the following report being enough to convince me of its powers.
``In 1657 an oak with mistletoe was felled at Norwood. Some persons cut the mistletoe for some apothecaries in London and left only one branch remaining for more to sprout out. One fell lame shortly after, soon after each of the others lost an eye; he that felled the tree (though warned not to), broke his leg.''