The Wordhord
In Old English, a wordhord was a hoard of words — a store of language kept close, ready to be drawn on when it mattered most. To unlock the wordhord was to begin to speak with purpose and skill.
One of the earliest and most evocative uses comes from Beowulf, just as the hero prepares to speak for the first time:
Him se yldesta andswarode, The eldest of them answered,
werodes wīsa, wordhord onlēac: the leader of the warriors, unlocked his wordhoard:
“Wē synt gumcynnes Gēata lēode “We are men of the Geatish people,
and Hīgeles heoras; Beowulf is mīn nama…” Hygelac’s hearth-companions; my name is Beowulf…”
To open one’s wordhord is not simply to speak — it is to draw on knowledge, memory, and meaning, and shape them into something that can be shared.
This section gathers reflections on the structure, history, and meaning of English words. You’ll find etymology cards, seasonal explorations, and word-family notes that trace how language grows — not at random, but through stories, roots, and sound.
Each entry examines how a word was built, where it came from, and how its meaning has shifted through time, translation, and use. It’s a place for wordcraft grounded in history — practical, curious, and shaped by the belief that language is not just learnt, but forged.
From ‘deor’ to ‘dieren’: how English ‘deer’ and Dutch ‘huisdieren’ share a root
In Belgium, a supermarket sign reads ‘Huisdieren’ (‘house animals’). Dutch ‘dieren’ shares its root with English ‘deer’ and German ‘Tier’. Once the same word, their meanings diverged over time.
Butcher – from Flemish bone-hackers to English goat-slayers
Discover the etymology of ‘butcher’: Flemish ‘beenhouwerij’ means ‘bone-hacker’s shop’, Danish ‘slagter’ comes from ‘to slaughter’, and English ‘butcher’ from French ‘goat-slayer’. Explore how German, Italian, Portuguese, Celtic, and Basque languages name this everyday trade.
The Boiling Origins of Broth
Broth is one of the oldest English cooking words, rooted in a Proto-Germanic word for boiling liquid. From medieval hearths to modern bouillon cubes, its story spans kitchens, languages, and centuries
Sloe: a fruit that outlasts the frost
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.
Rose hip – a fruit with two roots
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.
October: from ‘Winterfylleth’ to ‘octo’
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 Apple: Word Roots and Hedgerow Rituals
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.
Hawthorn: a thorn for the hedge, a berry for the branch
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.
Acorn: how a field fruit became an oak seed
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’.
Damson: A Clipped Fruit with a Long Memory
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.
Hedgerow: from fence and line to English landscape
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.
Horse chestnut – from Turkish horses to English conkers
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.
Harvest: words for the season of gathering
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.
Bramble: thorns and berries across Europe
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’.
Blackberry: a fruit with four naming traditions
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.
Autumn, Fall & Harvest
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.