My new house is located in a park full of birches. Do you know something they might be useful for (for spells, wards, charms, amulets, connection with spiritual, etc)? Have a lovely day and thank you 😊
Birches are incredible trees! There’s a couple of things it’s worth to know about the White Lady of the Woods.
Birches are known for their beautiful white bark and whimsical silhouettes. not a lot of people know though they are extremely brittle! Never look for safety under a birch during a storm! They grow in bunches or surrounded by other trees for a reason - they break incredibly fast and because of that rarely live over a 100 years. Because of the same reason they are great for lighting fires. If you want a natural kindle for ceremonial fires then use birch twigs or its bark.
Birches also hold an incredible treasure - their sap (also called birch water). Birch sap is very thin and almost transparent. It has a slightly sweet taste. It’s known for its healing as well as cosmetic properties. Its use is very well known in cultures of eastern Europe. You can even buy it commercially in many countries of the eastern block.
Drinking birch sap helps lower cholesterol. helps in weight loss and supports liver and kidney health. Cleaning your skin makes it clearer and brighter. It works as a great shampoo for greasy hair. It can even help in healing small wounds and cuts!
You don’t have to buy the sap though - you can harvest it yourself. Birch sap has to be collected in early spring before any green leaves have appeared, as in late spring it becomes bitter. The collection period is only about a month per year (Too late this year unfortunately!).
You can easily harvest a few liters of sap in a quite fast time without harming the tree.
There are three methods of harvesting the sap. First one is cutting the tree in a V shape. I personally do not recommend this method simply because it leaves a very visible mark.
The second method is simply poking a hole in the tree. You can do it with a nail, a steel or even a wooden pipe. This one is my favorite because it leaves almost no marks at all, it’s easy for the tree to heal and it also help you in harvesting because the pipe can work as a channel for the sap. It also seems to be the fastest method from my experience.
The third method is the easiest but also the least effective one. Break one of the low hanging twigs and hang a bottle on it. It seems easy but the branch has to be low and the tree wound heals incredibly hast, leaving you often with less than a few sips. The sap is also often more bitter when obtained with this method.
The Druid tree symbol for the Bards - ‘The Goddess Tree’ - ‘The Lady of the Woods’, the Birch tree is the bringer of promise, light and new beginnings.
Because of its properties and the white bark, birch in many cultures is connected with renewal, new beginnings, purification and protection.
In Wales, the birch is a tree of love. People from that region made wreaths out of the branches and twigs as tokens of love.
In Ukraine, Belarus, Russia and Poland people used to make brooms out of birch twigs to sweep not only dirt but also evil spirits. The famous Baba Yaga actually had a flying birch twig broom with which she swept all of her tracks.
The Irish used to create medallions out of birch marked with ogham scripture for protection and as a sign of fertility for the newlyweds.
Dried leaves can be crushed and made into birch tea, which even though terrible in taste, is high in vitamin C and works as a laxative and diuretic that helps getting rid of bacteria.
To cool down a violent passion sit down under a birch tree or at least hold onto something made of its wood. Be alone and quiet. Birch will channel into you wisdom and calmness.
Birch in the calendar
At Imbolc (Candlemas) in February, the white bark is used to symbolize the return of light along with the candles.
At Beltane (May Day) the birch was first choice as the tree to make the Maypole, cut at dawn to be decorated and danced around in old fertility rituals, later to be burned with ash logs at the Beltane fire.
At Samhain ( All Hallow’s Eve), some of the pagan new year festivities use birch to beat out the old or malign spirits from the hearth, as the symbol of returning light and rebirth.
I hope that helps you! You’re very lucky to live near birches so use their power wisely and look out for them during storms!
“hey can you do a imagine of jughead where the reader is having a panic attack and it is like that teen wolf scene in 3x11 where lydia kiss stiles? thx”
Done and done! This is my first imagine on Tumblr, so I hope it’s okay. :) I apologize for any grammatical errors I missed! And feedback is always appreciated.
Pairing: Jughead x Reader
Word Count: 1462
Do this. Do that. Turn your focus here. I need your help over there. Why didn’t you do better on this quiz? We need your help decorating the dance. Why didn’t you come to my party Friday night?
Why can’t you do better?
Why can’t you be better?
It felt as if someone had a vice grip on your mind–the pressure from your thoughts and the surrounding sensories building. The day had started out alright, you were a little low on sleep, but nothing you couldn’t handle. With your planner by your side and a to-do list written out, everything would be okay.
Until third period, when you couldn’t find your planner and suddenly, you’d felt as if you had lost control of everything. You attempted to calm your racing mind by writing and re-writing your list of things to do on various sticky notes and blank sheets of paper, but to no avail. Writing things down helped you to keep everything in order, but it had to be in a planner to work.
It had to be neat and precise to give you a sense of control.
And without it anchoring your nerves, your thoughts ran wild. Worries about deadlines, doubts about interactions with friends, and fears of not having your next step planned out flooded your brain, filling it up to the brim–but you refused to allow any to leak out. Throughout the school day, you make sure to maintain a composed appearance in front of your friends and classmates; smiling when needed and speaking up when called on. Even though it was a battle against yourself to avoid crumpling into a wired ball in the middle of the hallway.
To the most of the school, you were fine.
To one of your best friends, you were not.
Jughead had been keeping an eye on you since he saw you freeze up in third period. He’d known you long enough to realize what the furrowing of your brow and the drawing in of your limbs meant–panic. He was also wise enough not to bring it up in school. Rather choosing to remain by your side as much as he could, trying to deduce the root of your distress and how he could help fix it.
You could tell what Jug was doing, as soon as he began to silently walk with you to your different classes, whether or not he attended them with you. It brought a slight sense of comfort in knowing that someone was aware that something was off, without you having to outright tell them. Jughead had always been someone you could turn to in times of need and vise versa. Talking about the whirlwind of emotions that had a tendency to fill your heart and mind, was never something that you were very skilled at. So, having the one person who you wanted to know how you felt, already know with no words spoken, was a gift all unto itself.
Of course, today was the day your teachers decided to assign all of the big term assignments, and each one pushed you closer to the edge. Relief flooded your system when you heard the final dismissal bell ring. Go home. Do homework.
Simple enough. That you could handle.
Jughead joined you on your walk home, the fresh air and blue skies cooling your nerves ever so slightly. You and he walked side by side, your eyes fixated on the sidewalk beneath your feet, while Jug’s were focused on you. He wanted to ask if you wanted to grab a bite a Pop’s, for his stomach sounded like an overprotective mother bear, but he knew that you’d say no. What you needed was to follow whatever plan had accumulated in your mind in order to regain a sense of control.
And so, he decided on grabbing some food at your house; it wasn’t unusual for him to hang out there anyhow. The trees that were lining your street casted cool shadows over you, which gave your skin a break from the vibrant sun that was out that afternoon. Pushing open the front door, you were happy to see your house just the way you’d left it–one less thing to worry about. Your parents wouldn’t be home for a couple more hours, meaning you would be granted with peace and quiet as your thoughts fell back into place.
Jughead followed you up to your room, making sure to leave the door slightly open, and took no time in flopping on your bed while you settled down at your computer desk. Placing your backpack neatly to your right, you pulled out that night’s homework as your laptop booted up. Though you were still on edge, you were able to focus a bit more now that you were in your space. Pulling out the sheet of paper that listed your homework, you began to silently estimate how long each assignment would take.
Math would take you around forty-five minutes, another twenty minutes for history reading, and probably another hour for your English writing assign–
Freezing your train of thought, you glanced up at your laptop when you didn’t hear the usual melody that played as it turned on. The screen was black. Wierd. You swore you had pressed the power button. Shrugging it off, you pushed the on-button and waited.
You pressed it again, holding it longer this time.
You checked to make sure it was plugged in while you were at school, it was, meaning it should have a full charge. You pressed the power button one more time, but to no avail. Your laptop wasn’t turning on. This… this couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not today.
The logical side of your mind was telling you that you could head to the library, or a friend’s house to finish typing the English assignment, but, at that moment, all rational thoughts went out the window. Your neck and shoulders tensed and you could feel your toes curling into the soft carpet underneath your feet. Forehead twisting in distress, you rested your elbows on your desk and your head in your hands. The room was silent, but the silence was too loud. Your fingers curled into your scalp, nails digging into your skin, trying to keep the tears from escaping.
Breathe, you thought. Breathe.
But, soon breathing turned into hyperventilating, which drew Jughead’s attention away from the book he had been reading. He quietly marked his page and put the novel to the side. Scooting forward on your bed, he asked, “How are you feeling?”
The thick lump in your throat took a couple of swallows to get down, before you managed to softly sputter, “Completely out of control.”
Jug stood from his spot on your bed and walked to your side, careful not to touch you because he knew at that moment, physical contact was the last thing you wanted. He grabbed ahold of the back of your desk chair, pulling you away from the laptop and spinning you so that you were facing him. Slowly, you lowered your hands from your face, your breathing becoming increasingly ragged as you attempted to steady it.
Jughead’s eyes locked with yours, “(Y/N), I want you to breathe in time with my counting. Okay?”
“One. Two. Three.” In.
“Four. Five. Six.” Out.
“One. Two. Three.” In.
“Four. Five. Six.” Out.
You could feel your heart rate slow as you found yourself gaining control over something once more–your breathing. Closing your eyes, you inhaled and exhaled in time with Jug’s voice. This continued for a few moments before you felt the intrusive thoughts knocking at your mind once more. Eyes flying open, you stared at Jughead, trying to convey to him that you required another distraction–and quickly–without opening your mouth.
He got the message and hurriedly racked his brain for something–anything–that would make your mind go blank. And while he didn’t physically desire to so, he lurched forward and pressed his lips to yours anyway. He could feel your entire form go rigid with shock, and he knew that his tactic had done the trick. His lips remained on yours for another instant before they retreated. Jughead didn’t fear you getting the entirely wrong impression.
He did have feelings for you in a romantic sense–though, that moment may not be the best for revealing how his feelings went past friendship–just not a physical desire. You knew that was how he was, though, which is one of the main reasons the kiss took you completely off guard.
You blinked, “But… you-”
“It distracted you, didn’t it?”
You swallowed and gave a slight nod.
Jug smiled, “Then my plan worked and was worth it. Now, I’m famished. Let’s head to Pop’s.”
Excitement was coursing through the air as the royal messengers announced in the surrounding villages that the King and Queen were organizing a festival lasting three days. It wasn’t specifically mentioned, but the townspeople knew that Prince Thomas has yet to find a wife. They believed that his parents had set this up so he might talk with a few princesses that were invited.
The royal family was very closed off from the villages, excluding the King and Queen. Neither Prince Thomas nor his younger brothers have set foot outside the castle boundaries due to what had happened to the neighboring kingdom’s princess all those years ago. She had been curious and wandered out of the castle. Her parents searched every end of their kingdom, but could never find her. It had been years since, so the princess would have been Prince Thomas’s age.
The villagers gathered around the messenger and began discussing what they might wear or, among the younger girls, what Prince Thomas might look like. You, on the other hand, had no time to even see the messenger. If you were anyone else in the village, you might have been pondering over what gown to wear while seeing the royal family, but you were a poor orphan.
Without a penny to your name, you found yourself stuck in the town that didn’t seem to want you. They whispered terrible things about why you had no parents. You had been called a bastard child by a few drunken men. You were reminded of your lack of position, wealth, husband, and worth daily in the town. As you grew older, you were too beautiful to be ignored, yet with no dowry to offer any suitors, you remained an unmarried maiden.
As the messenger announced the shocking news, you were cleaning the house that had paid for your service. They offered you a little money and a place in their servant quarters for you. The family who lived there were not as cruel as the townspeople could be to you, but they knew the importance of reputation in the town. Even the other servants didn’t willingly talk to you, in fear that someone would see.
You had heard about the festival from the other servants. They weren’t talking to you, but you could hear them as you cleaned the floors. Most of them didn’t plan on actually going since they didn’t have a fancy gown or anything like that. After they left, you were alone with your fantasies of dancing under the colorful decorations at night. A beautiful gown adorned your frame, making people forget of your reputation.
Of course, the fantasy ended. You could never get a dress in time. Even if you did, you were sure that people would be embarrassed by just being in your presence. You always had some sort of dirt on your face, no matter how many times you washed it during the day. Your hair didn’t shine like the young girls in the village. Taking care of a house had taken its toll on you.
The first day of the festival seemed like every other day. You woke up before dawn to start your duties and made sure to kept your head down when you walked through the village. All the women of the town were preparing for a magical night under the stars while the men were working so their women could afford to dress and perhaps catch the royal family’s eye. Despite the distraction, some townspeople still took it upon themselves to remind you of your place in society by whispering among each other.
Each whisper made you curl up slightly more into yourself, until you could barely see where you were going. You just wanted to get back to the house and hide away. As you hastily turned a corner, you ran into an elderly woman and tumbled onto the ground, getting more dirt on yourself. “I’m very sorry, ma’am,” you immediately apologized.
“It’s fine, child,” the woman replied with a shaky voice. She waited until you were on your feet to ask, “Shouldn’t you be preparing for the festival?”
You offered a small smile. “I’m not going. I haven’t got a dress and I’d make a fool of myself if I showed up.”
The old woman’s eyes held a mysterious glint in them and she smirked knowingly. “I wouldn’t be so sure. One must remain optimistic in these troubling times. No one knows when their life could be turned upside down.” With that, she excused herself, ignoring your confused glance. You turned around to look at the unfamiliar woman again, but she had disappeared in the crowd.
By the time you were done with your tasks of the day, you were alone in the house. The family had left a little while ago for the festival while the servants had gone back home. You entered the little servant quarters you got to call your own and almost screamed at the sight. Hanging by the window was the most spectacular dress, suited for a noble woman. It glimmered in the moonlight and you hesitantly prodded it, wondering if you were hallucinating.
The dress fit perfectly and was made of silk. Woman in the town would die for a silk dress. When you looked in the grimy mirror in the room, you couldn’t help but notice that wearing the dress had made the dirt on your body disappear. It was like you had a proper bath with soaps that you couldn’t even imagine. You could barely recognize yourself.
After putting on the slippers that came with the mysterious dress, you heard a slight commotion from outside. You left the house from the front door to see a carriage stopped. The man complimented you on your outfit and hurried you in the carriage since you were “already late”. You were in an absolute daze, thinking that you must be dreaming. All you knew is that you didn’t want this dream to end.
Even before the mysterious girl appeared, Tom was utterly enamored with the festival. He was shielded his whole life due to the missing princess and he was taking advantage of the brief freedom he was granted. He loved socializing with the townspeople, enjoying the pleasant conversation that rarely happened in the castle. Wanting to interact with as many people as he could, Tom couldn’t stay still. That is, until he saw you.
You, in a stunning gown illuminated by the lights, had made Tom stop in his spot, gazing at you with wide eyes. He found himself slipping out of his cloak, displaying his family’s coat of arms. For some reason, he didn’t want you to know him as the prince just yet. There were two other days for those sort of details. Without another thought, Tom approached you effortlessly and asked politely, “Miss, might I be so fortunate to steal a dance from you?”
After years of being the dregs of society, you graciously met the man’s outreached hand and allowed yourself to be led out to dance. At first, you were nervous to dance, but if you were truly awful, the handsome gentleman didn’t appear to notice. “I do apologize if I’m not very good at dancing,” you mentioned with a slight smile.
“I don’t mind at all,” he answered without hesitation, “I’m willing to dance if that means I can be in your presence for the night.”
“If I don’t find someone that interests me more.” You had no idea where this coy behavior had come from, but you relaxed at the man’s laugh.
“I can assure you that I’m rather interesting.”
“Then, interest me.”
You and the man danced for hours, while talking. For some reason, certain girls were glaring at their direction, but you ignored them, not wanting to even consider that they knew who you actually were. The handsome stranger surprised you with his charm and wit, since the attractive men in your town rarely had any intelligence to talk about anything substantial. He, on the other hand, kept you laughing, which had been foreign to you lately.
The festival was meant to go on well into the night, but you saw the clock and knew if you didn’t leave now, you would be too tired to properly perform your duties. Despite your wish to act like the noblewoman that you knew you weren’t and dance with the gentleman until the first night of the festival ended, you couldn’t lose the job you had. When the man left to receive a drink for you, you subtly left the festival in the carriage that brought you.
Leaving almost made you mourn the life you could never possess, but you reassured yourself that there were two more nights. Two more nights to enjoy yourself before going back to your tragic reality. Still, you thought about the handsome stranger that you had danced with. You forgot to ask for his name, but you also didn’t want to reveal yours, in case he found out who you really were.
Tom managed to find two glasses of wine and returned to the table where he left you. To his surprise, you weren’t there. You hadn’t given the impression that you were leaving so early in the night. Perhaps you were visiting the garderobe and would be back soon. Tom took a sip of his wine as the minutes passed by. He considered asking if anyone knew you when he realized that he hadn’t even asked you for your name.
After his father had found him, still sitting at that very table, Tom put his cloak back on, as his father had asked him to, and resumed socializing. Although he still found excitement from talking to people, he couldn’t get you, the woman who spoke vividly to him without knowing his place in society, out of his head.