Towards the end of February, Duncan came home from the supermarket with a bottle of chefir around which was tied a red and white cord:
‘Why the red cord?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he replied, ‘but they were all like it.’
A few days later, all was revealed. Suddenly my Facebook feed was alive with red and white cords and good wishes. In Romania, 1st March is ‘Mărțișor‘. The name is the diminutive form of marț, the old name for martie or March and literally means ‘little March’. It’s a celebration that marks – or looks forward to – the beginning of spring.
Traditionally, people in country villages would exchange these cords, tying them to their clothing, their gate or their barn to protect against evil spirits and to invoke nature’s regenerative power. It was believed that anyone who wore such a cord would be given health and strength in the coming year. The cord would be worn until the end of March or until the first tree buds began to open and then would be tied to a fruit tree to ensure a good harvest.
Nowadays, particularly in urban areas, the mărțișor is seen more as symbol of love, friendship and respect and is exchanged as such, along with messages such as ‘un mărțișor fericit și o primăvară frumoasă‘ (Happy mărțișor and a beautiful spring). Unlike St David’s day, it’s also associated more with snowdrops than with daffodils!
The tradition is believed to go back to ancient times and similar traditions are also found in Bulgaria, Macedonia, Greece, Albania and Moldova. Some argue it has Roman origins, some that it has Thracian or Dacian origins. Wherever it comes from, it clearly reflects the unpredictability of the March weather and the longing for spring. In essence, it’s not unlike the ancient British Imbolc/Brigid’s day festival of 2nd February that also celebrates the coming of spring and involves the blessing of home and hearth.
This year, it corresponded with the coldest night of the winter (at -16 C), kindly brought to us by the Beast from the East. It was followed by International Women’s Day on 8th March, when the shops were full of flowers and other gifts of the sort I would normally associate with Mothering Sunday. (Mother’s Day doesn’t come until May 6th). Then some rather warmer days, when a few brave primroses began to open… only for the Beast to come creeping back to decorate the trees ready for the Equinox:
There is a saying in Romania when the weather has been mild and suddenly turns cold: ‘Iarna n-a mâncat-o lupul’ – the wolf hasn’t eaten the winter. Well, I can’t help feeling it’s about time he did. True, he seemed to have a jolly good go in December and January, but perhaps that’s the problem? He was full and didn’t fancy dessert?
Whatever, I can’t help feeling that some more seasonable temperatures would be nice. It’s not so much that I don’t like snow. I love the stuff! But there is a time and a season for everything. Right now, it’s the colours I miss. Blue sky. Green grass. Bright spring flowers…
So, Mr Wolf, if you’re not going to eat the winter yourself, I’d appreciate it if you’d wake up Mr Bear and see if you can get him to send the Beast packing!
Ripples in the Wind 