The word ‘hearth’ comes from Old English ‘heorð’, once meaning both fire and home. From Latin ‘focus’ to Greek ‘Hestia’, it has always marked the meeting of warmth and belonging.

A spiny hedge, a bitter fruit, and a name that’s older than plum, pear, or cherry. This word card explores the etymology and history of sloe — from PIE roots and Germanic cousins to Neolithic dye pots and 19th-century gin bottles.

I thought lantern might be Germanic, but it isn’t: its roots lie in Greek lampter ‘torch’, carried through Latin and French into English. As nights draw in this October, I picture scenes before electricity — a lantern taken out to feed cattle, or carried across the prairie.

Explore the etymology of rose hip: ‘rose’ from Latin via Greek and Persian, ‘hip’ from Old English hēope. A compound of borrowed bloom and native fruit, shaped by hedgerow lore, wartime syrup, and European cousins.

‘Mist’ has kept its form and meaning for over a thousand years. From the Proto-Indo-European root meigh- ‘to sprinkle’, it connects to Old Norse ‘mistr’ and to ‘mistletoe’—once ‘misteltān’, the ‘dung twig’. English kept the weather sense while its relatives shifted toward drizzle, haze, or muck

October still remembers being the eighth month. From Latin ‘octo’, Old English ‘Winterfylleth’, and Norse ‘Gormánuðr’, the name carries echoes of numbers, moons, and slaughter.

Crab apples grow at the edges of things. This post traces the word’s tangled roots — from Old English and Norse to hedgerow jelly, wassailing, and 30+ languages that name this small, sour fruit.

The word ‘hawthorn’ began as a hedge-thorn in Old English, but came to mean both a thorny tree and the berry it bears. Across Europe, the name reflects thorns, blossom, and hedgerows.

The word ‘acorn’ didn’t originally mean oak nut. It once referred to any wild field fruit. This post explores its journey through Old English, folk etymology, and dozens of translations — from ‘gland’ and ‘ghianda’ to ‘balut’ and ‘eikel’.

From French ‘mousseron’ to Latin ‘fungus’, Dutch ‘toads’ chairs’, Spanish ‘setas’, and Danish ‘beech hats’, discover how Europe names the mushroom.

The Danish word gård links to English ‘yard’ and ‘garden’. From ancient enclosures to modern courtyards and kindergartens, discover how one root shaped European words and everyday places.

A tart hedgerow fruit with ancient Syrian roots — English pared it down to ‘damson’, but other languages kept the plum and the city in view.

Explore the etymology and history of ‘hedgerow’, from Old English hecg (‘hedge, enclosure’) and ræw (‘line, succession’) to Bronze Age fields, Saxon charters, medieval quicksets, and the Enclosure Acts. With modern dialect forms and parallels across Europe.

Across Europe the horse chestnut is named plainly, but English alone has ‘conker’. First used for snail shells in the 1840s, the word shifted to chestnuts, from ‘conquer’.

The English name ‘horse chestnut’ is a 16th-century translation of Turkish ‘at kestanesi’, meaning ‘the horse’s chestnut’. From Ottoman horse doctors to autumn conkers, explore its story.

Explore the history of ‘harvest’, once the English word for autumn. From Old English ‘hærfest’ and German ‘Herbst’ to Italian ‘raccolto’, Spanish ‘cosecha’, Welsh ‘cynhaeaf’ and Europe’s harvest festivals, discover how languages reflect the season of gathering.

The word ‘bramble’ comes from Old English ‘bremel’, meaning thornbush. Discover its Germanic roots in Dutch ‘braam’ and German ‘Brombeere’, with parallels in French ‘ronce’, Italian ‘rovo’, Spanish ‘zarza’, Celtic ‘sméar’, and Greek ‘βάτος’.

Freshly picked blackberries in early August tell a simple story in English — a black berry — but the word’s roots run deep. Across Europe, languages link the fruit to brambles, bears, or mulberries. Discover the etymology of ‘blackberry’ from Old English blæcberie to Latin morum and beyond.

Discover the history of the season’s names — from Old English ‘hærfest’ and ‘hærfestmonað’ through Latin ‘autumnus’ to the English ‘fall of the leaf’. Learn how harvest, autumn, and fall each reflect different traditions.

Where does the word ‘September’ come from? From Latin ‘septem’ meaning ‘seven’, the name once marked the seventh month of Rome’s calendar. In Old English it was the holy month or harvest month, and in Norse tradition the autumn month — each pointing to September as a time of reaping, rites and new beginnings.