Somehow I’ve just now found this offering and am gobsmacked by the poem. How beautiful! It reminds me of “The Lost Words” by Robert Macfarlane and Jackie Morris. It may have even been you who first recommended that book. It’s one of my few coffee table books that I actually revisit again and again because there’s such magic in it, like the poem you shared here.
I’ve been studying Norse for about six months now and am starting to find my way around the language. I was fluent in Spanish as a little kid, and took lessons for a couple of years — enough to travel with for sure — but Norse has captivated me. I keep catching myself looking up the etymology of words that I love and being surprised every time I discover that its roots are actually Norse. So many of American English words are so far removed from their source, and we have a tendency to just assume that they came from Latin, French, german, or Yiddish. When I first visited England I was shocked to find so many of your words being obvious French imports. Like haricots for green beans and courgette for zucchini. It must be something to be so geographically close to the people and histories that formed your language. Even more so to be deeply connected to a local dialect spoken in tongues of grandmotherly love.
Thank you, Eric, for the kind words about the poem. I'm fascinated by language and etymology. My first degree at Edinburgh included studying Old English, Middle English, etc. I'm fascinated by historical linguistics and phonology. Lots of our French words arrived here via the Norman Conquest in 1066. You can also trace a lot of social history through place names here in the North East of England.
Lots of Old Norse from the Vikings mixed in with French...
Oh, that is a beautiful phrase, Lexie! So tender. Also something about allowing our bodies to express our emotions, acknowledging that friendship happens in the body. Love it.
Right! To me, it's that fuzzy-warm feeling in my chest thinking of a friend who always shows up. Just thinking of it now, feeling so much gratitude for each one of them. I appreciate you bringing back memories.
Gorgeous memories. So evocative. I love ‘hearing’ different words.
But teenagers eh?! 😉💙
I, too, grew up in West Yorkshire - I still call the dialect my own. My Canadian husband often says he doesn't understand me.
I find that it can have certain advantages sometimes, Maureen. 🤣💜
Somehow I’ve just now found this offering and am gobsmacked by the poem. How beautiful! It reminds me of “The Lost Words” by Robert Macfarlane and Jackie Morris. It may have even been you who first recommended that book. It’s one of my few coffee table books that I actually revisit again and again because there’s such magic in it, like the poem you shared here.
I’ve been studying Norse for about six months now and am starting to find my way around the language. I was fluent in Spanish as a little kid, and took lessons for a couple of years — enough to travel with for sure — but Norse has captivated me. I keep catching myself looking up the etymology of words that I love and being surprised every time I discover that its roots are actually Norse. So many of American English words are so far removed from their source, and we have a tendency to just assume that they came from Latin, French, german, or Yiddish. When I first visited England I was shocked to find so many of your words being obvious French imports. Like haricots for green beans and courgette for zucchini. It must be something to be so geographically close to the people and histories that formed your language. Even more so to be deeply connected to a local dialect spoken in tongues of grandmotherly love.
Thank you, Eric, for the kind words about the poem. I'm fascinated by language and etymology. My first degree at Edinburgh included studying Old English, Middle English, etc. I'm fascinated by historical linguistics and phonology. Lots of our French words arrived here via the Norman Conquest in 1066. You can also trace a lot of social history through place names here in the North East of England.
Lots of Old Norse from the Vikings mixed in with French...
I often think about "bosom friends" - it brings a smile: Anne of Green Gables, innocence, connection and loyalty.
Oh, that is a beautiful phrase, Lexie! So tender. Also something about allowing our bodies to express our emotions, acknowledging that friendship happens in the body. Love it.
Right! To me, it's that fuzzy-warm feeling in my chest thinking of a friend who always shows up. Just thinking of it now, feeling so much gratitude for each one of them. I appreciate you bringing back memories.