Unwrap winter magic and meaning in these lingering liminal days.
a winter floral oracle, holding onto hope with flower love and lore.
Hello, I am so glad you have found your way here… I’m Lyndsay — mother, creative and storyteller with a background in interiors PR.
Step inside Story & Thread., a cosy, layered home where the threads of creativity, interiors and mothering meet. Here, we unearth the stories from the seasons of our lives, with a house & a garden at the heart, and everyday beauty as our guide…
“In seed time learn,
in harvest teach,
in winter enjoy.”
—William Blake.
Dearest reader…
I hope you are enjoying this blur of in-between days after Christmas, before New Year. It has long been one of my favourite times of year, when the world seems to slow, and rest becomes a collective priority. Now with young children it has a different feel and pace (!), but it remains to be an opportunity to sense into softness, cosiness and magic in our days.
I wrote a Note this week about these days which have a number of different names, traditions and folk tales attached to them. I loved learning more about what you name these days and what they mean to you…
I loved hearing from that in Sweden this time is called,
“‘mellandagarna’, meaning ‘the middle days’. So fitting for this liminal period that feels like a long, restful exhale of release.”
And from who said that,
“in the south of Germany we call them variations of ‘Raunächte’ (stems from Rauch, which is smoke as traditionally people used incense).
Alternative word is ‘12 Heilige Nächte’ (12 holy nights) but we have many more local dialects and also different interpretations.”
I have also loved learning about the 12 Sacred Nights from over the past couple of years. These ‘days out of time’ were named as such as they are thought to have been added onto the end year to align with the change from a lunar to a solar calendar during the reign of Julius Caesar. They are thought to be a particularly potent time for withdrawing from the world for introspection and divination.
referred to ’s evocative description of this time as ‘The Hush’. I listened to Beth’s podcast episode, Winter Wonderland — on savouring The Hush, whilst walking through our local woodland at the weekend, my eyes open for omens. I also love how calls it ‘The Lull’, which is as calm and dreamy as I always hope it will be.
In Beth’s podcast episode she references ’s essay from last year, The Omen Days, in which Kerri explores her personal relationship with the ancient Celtic tradition of looking and listening for signs, messages and omens to help us navigate the year ahead. After reading Kerri’s beautiful essay last year, I came to realise that the significance of these liminal days goes beyond the enjoyment of eking out the festive feeling with copious leftovers and plentiful pottering; but that in the past, these days held deep meaning for observing and listening closely to the world around us, and for sensing into what the year ahead may bring.
I was keen to honour the omen days this year and so was delighted when at The Moon Shed asked me to contribute a flower oracle to ‘The Winter Talisman Retreat’, a beautiful guide allowing us to connect with the omen days using ritual, tarot, poetry, meditation, music and Yoga Nidra, created and curated by Claire. It is not too late to join the retreat, it runs until 6th January 2025.
On my walk to the woods this weekend, I spotted the subtle but special beauty of the hellebore in the church gardens that I have been walking by for the past four winters, since having a newborn baby wrapped up warmly in a fabric sling. It’s a flower that holds myth and meaning which I share in my winter floral oracle in The Winter Talisman retreat, and below…
Hellebore — hold onto hope, beauty can bloom in the darkness.
About the hellebore.
Hellebore, botanical name Helleborus, in the family Ranunculaceae. It is thought that the name hellebore derives from the Ancient Greek words ἑλεῖν heleîn, ‘to injure’ and βορά borá, ‘food’ due to the toxic compounds found within the plant. Despite its toxicity, the plant has also been used in small amounts medicinally for thousands of years for both physical and mental health. The hellebore is often also called the winter rose, snow rose and Christmas rose due to its winter flowering time, or the Lenten rose (for the species that flower later in the spring).
Hellebores are intricate nodding flowers in shades of green, white, pink and dusky purple — when I spot them beginning to bloom in the depths of winter, they feel like the rarest kind of beauty.
A flower steeped in folklore.
These winter blooms are steeped in folklore and symbolism, with meanings ranging from protection and warding off evil, to rebirth and new beginnings — they are often seen to be flowers that are brimming with hope. Their ability to bloom amid winter’s hold on much of the living world symbolises resilience, strength that arises from challenges, and the promise of brighter days.
The Christmas rose.
One reason given for the name the Christmas rose comes from a European folk tale about a little-known shepherdess called Madelon who was said to be amongst the shepherds watching their flock when they were told by a heavenly host of angels about the birth of Jesus. When Madelon arrived at the stable she realised she had no gift to give and burst into tears — as her tears fell to the earth, the angels took pity on her and her tears miraculously became the white flowers of the Christmas rose.
The oracle rose.
Another common name for the hellebore is the oracle rose — it was once used to predict the weather. Villagers would cut 12 stems each year on Christmas Eve and place them in 12 vases corresponding to the months of the year. If the flower opened, it predicted fine weather for the month it had been designated, while a closed bloom meant that the weather would be poor.
Whether or not the hellebore can reliably predict the weather… it is certainly true that the flower embodies both the melancholy of winter and that of primaveral promise.
Flower of hope.
In the first wintry months of 2020, I was making very regular trips to the baby weighing clinic in the swirling wind and rain with my newborn baby wrapped in a fabric sling. Despite feeding my daughter in what felt like every waking moment, day and night, in those early days — I was told that she was not gaining weight, that there was doubt about my milk supply due to a traumatic post-birth situation and that I would need to make a potentially drastic change. It was the source of much stress and worry — yet somewhere buried beneath all of the uncertainty, I found a quiet resolve that we would make our breastfeeding relationship work (with support) and that she would thrive.
On my path to the clinic each day, I was struck by the rarest beauty in winter flowers that grew in a church garden — particularly of the hellebore and the snowdrop, both revealing the possibility of flourishing in difficult conditions and a sense of deeply rooted belief. I knew the snowdrop well, but I had never noticed the hellebore before and I was struck by its unassuming yet breathtaking beauty in the starkness of winter.
To me, it embodied the co-existing truths of softness and strength, and held a sense of both reassurance and lustrous wonder in winter — something that at the time I didn’t realise quite how much I needed.
Read more about oracles, omens, signs and symbols for this time of year in The Winter Talisman Retreat by
.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you are able to sink deeply into these in-between days that feel so different to any other time of the year.
I would love to hear your stories of this time and of course, if the hellebore means something to you…
P.S. I hope you will be able to take some time over these ‘out of time’ days to curl up with the first edition of A Storied Home. in winter — a very gentle guide to creating a sanctuary for softening into the season, led by the senses, and our stories to cultivate a feeling of sacredness and homecoming.
**SAVE THE DATE** for the next online gathering for A Seasonal Salon. winter edition for members of The Beauty Thread. will take place on Thursday 6th February 2025. More details to follow soon…
Oh Lyndsay, what a beautiful post for these magical in-between days! I loved learning about the various names for this time frame and absolutely adored the story of Madelon. Thank you for sharing ❄️❤️
I really enjoy your flower oracle posts Lyndsay, it's always so interesting hearing more about what each flower means and how you link it all to the seasons too. I don't think I've seen a hellebore before, but I loved hearing about how the hellebore and snowdrops gave you that new perspective when things were tough for you in those early mothering days. The constant weighing and pressure to breastfeed is such a huge strain in the newborn days.