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.
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’.
‘Mushroom, Fungus, and Beech Hats: How Europe Names the Fungi’
From French ‘mousseron’ to Latin ‘fungus’, Dutch ‘toads’ chairs’, Spanish ‘setas’, and Danish ‘beech hats’, discover how Europe names the mushroom.
Gaard: from enclosures to courtyards, farms, and kindergartens
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.
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.
Conker: from snail shells to horse chestnuts
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’.
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.