Light in a shady grove

Often when it's very windy as it was today I go down into the valley instead to the coast. The dog delights in the badger tracks that criss-cross the woods and he rustles off into the undergrowth, re-appearing from time to time before following a new scent trail. Below the woods a strip of fields borders the river. It's a very peaceful area and I never meet anyone there, even the farmer who owns the land.

The wind was warm and southerly. I was amazed at the number of birds that flew up from every bush: they were busy stuffing themselves with the remaining berries - hips, haws and sloes. Then I saw something more exciting. A buzzard was tucking into a recent kill. When she saw me she tried to fly away with it but it was too heavy - the gory carcase of a pigeon. The feathers, head and wings were gone and what was left was meaty part of the breast. I knew she would be back for it.

I have blipped this grove of trees before. Today it brought into my mind the memory of my father teaching me the Latin pun lucus a non lucendo. In Latin lucus means a grove, and lucendo means shining (from the verb lucere), so the whole thing translates 'a grove [a shady place] so-called because it is not light'. The quip mocked examples of absurd or paradoxical etymology when the qualities of something are the opposite of what the name suggests. Further examples can be found here.

Of course the pun doesn't work except in Latin and I found it hard to get my childish mind around the twisted logic. My father had the benefit of a classical education and I didn't learn Latin until I was older. Another phrase he would quote, when he did something that was forbidden to me (such as putting a whole fried egg in his mouth or feeding a cat from his plate), was Quod licet Iovi, non licet bovi. It means, literally, 'what is permitted to Jove is not permitted to an ox', in other words, gods may do what cattle may not. This kind of double standard was naturally very aggravating.

Pondering upon these irrelevancies helped to distract me from my anxieties about next Sunday's celebration in London of a 90th birthday in the family. I have been organising the event for some time and will be very relieved when it's over.