Pouring Rain

Yesterday it rained quite a lot here in the UK, and rather heavily at times. This got me thinking about the saying it never rains but it pours.

Pouring Rain

This expression means unfortunate events occur in quantity or misfortunes never come singly. A related saying is bad things come in threes. Fortunately this wasn’t the case for me yesterday, apart from a few minor delays and disruptions on the trains I took [source].

It never rains but it pours can apparently also refer to good things happening all at once or to excess, though I suspect the negative meaning is more common. It first appears in It Cannot Rain But It pours, an article by Jonathan Swift and Alexander Pope in Prose Miscellanies, and in It cannot Rain but it Pours OR, London ſrowʼd [strowed] with Rarities, a book by John Arbuthnot published in 1726 [source].

There are similar expressions in other languages, including some that refer to rain:

In some languages such sayings mean something like ‘misfortunes do not come alone’ or ‘a misfortune seldom comes alone’:

Here a few other examples that don’t mention rain or misfortune:

  • Ar ein skriðan er lopin er onnur væntandi = when one landslide is over, another is waiting (Faroese)
  • Sjaldan er ein báran stök = rarely is a single bear alone (Icelandic)
  • Nuair a thig air duine, thig air uile = when it befalls one, it befalls all (Scottish Gaelic)




Sylvan Forests

When is a forest not a forest?

A view from the train

In modern English, the word forest [ˈfɒɹɪst / ˈfɔɹəst] means:

  • A dense uncultivated tract of trees and undergrowth, larger than woods.
  • Any dense collection or amount – e.g. a forest of criticism

Historically it referred to ‘defined area of land set aside in England as royal hunting ground or for other privileged use’, and didn’t necessarily contain trees.

It comes from Middle English forest (forest, wood, a preserve for hunting exclusive to royalty), from Old French forest (royal hunting ground, forest), from Early Medieval Latin forestis (a large area reserved for the use of the King or nobility, often a forest and often for hunting or fishing, forest), from Proto-West-Germanic *furhisti (forest), from *furhiþi (forest, woodland) and *hursti (thicket, wood, grove, nest) [source].

*furhiþi (forest) comes from *furhu (fir, pine), from Proto-Germanic *furhō (fir, pine, forest [of fir or pine trees]), from Proto-Indo-European *pérkus (oak), from *perkʷ- (oak) [source].

Words from the same roots include pērkons (thunder) in Latvian, perkūnas (sound of thunder, god of thunder) in Lithuanian, perth (bush, hedge) in Welsh, quercia (oak) in Italian, forêt (forest) in French, vorst (copse, grove, woodland) in Dutch, fjör (vitality, energy, fun, life) in Icelandic, and cork, fir and farm in English [source].

*hursti (thicket, wood, grove, nest) comes from Proto-Germanic *hurstiz, from Proto-Indo-European *kʷr̥s-ti-s, from *kʷres- [source].

Words from the same roots include hirst (a barren, unproductive piece of ground, usually a hillock, knoll or ridge) in Scots, horst (an elevated land overgrown with shrub) in Dutch, Horst (the nest of a bird of prey, eyrie, bush, thicket, small forest) in German, and hurst (wood, grove – found mainly in place names such as Sissinghurst) in English [source].

The Irish word crann (tree, mast), the Welsh word pren (timber, wood, tree), and related words in other Celtic languages also come from the same roots, via Proto-Celtic *kʷresnom (tree, wood) [source].

In Middle English, the word wode was used to refer to a living tree, a group of trees, a grove, a copse, a wood, a forest, wood, etc. As a verb, it meant to hunt, to take to the woods, or to hide oneself in the woods, and a wodeward was a forester or forest warden.

Wode comes from Old English wudu / ᚹᚢᛞᚢ (wood, forest, woods, tree), from Proto-Germanic *widuz (wood, tree, forest), from Proto-Indo-European *h₁widʰ-u-s [source].

Words from the same roots include wood in English, viður (trees or brambles, forest, wood, timber) in Icelandic, viita (a thicket of young deciduous trees) in Finnish, gwedhen (tree) in Cornish, gwezenn (tree) in Breton, and fiodh (wood, timber) in Scottish Gaelic [source].

Another forest-related word in English is sylvan, which means pertaining to the forest or woodlands, residing in a forest or wood, wooded, or covered in forest.

Related words include silviculture (forestry – the care and development of forests in order to obtain a product or provide a benefit), silvology (the scientific study of forests), and names such as Syliva, Transylvania (“across the forest”), Spotsylvania and Pennsylvania (“woodland of William Penn”).

It comes from Medieval Latin sylvanus, from Latin silvanus, from silva (forest), from Proto-Indo-European *s(w)el- (beam, board, frame, threshold) [source]. Words from the same roots include selva (forest, wood, mass, multitude) in Italian, selva (jungle, woods, forest) in Portuguese, and silva (bramble, blackberry bush) in Galician [source].

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Squally Showers

One of the words that came up in my Spanish lessons recently was chubascos, which it translated as (rain) showers. I wondered where it comes from, and thought I’d investigate.

Chubasco.

In Spanish, chubasco [tʃuˈβ̞as.ko] means downpour, squall, heavy shower, setback or a rain shower, particularly one associated with heavy wind. In nautical usage, it refers to a dark cloud which suddenly appears in the horizon, potentially foretelling rough sailing conditions [source].

Related expressions include:

  • chubascos dispersos = scattered showers
  • chubasquero = a waterproof raincoat
  • aguantar el chubasco = to weather the storm

Chubasco comes from Portuguese chuvasco (downpour, shower), or from Galician chuvasco (downpour, shower), which both come from Old Galician-Portuguese chuvia (rain), from Latin pluvia (rain, a shower), from pluit (to rain, be raining), from Proto-Italic *plowō, from Proto-Indo-European *plew- (to flow, float, wash) [source].

The word chubasco [tʃuːˈbɑːskəʊ] also exists in English and refers to a violent squall with thunder and lightning, encountered during the rainy season along the Pacific coast of Central America and South America. It was borrowed from Spanish [source].

Words from the same roots include chuva (rain) in Portuguese, choiva (rain) in Galician, lluvia (rain, rainfall, stream, barrage, shower, spray) in Spanish, and pioggia (rain, shower) in Italian pluie (rain) in French, and pluvious (involving or related to rain, rainy) in English [source].

By the way, someone who loves rain, and/or finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days, or an organism that thrives in a rainy environment is a pluviophile and is pluviophilious, and another name for a rain gauge is a pluvioscope [source].

Other rain-related words in Spanish include:

  • llover = to rain
  • llovedizo = rain, leaky
  • llovizna = drizzle
  • lloviznar = to drizzle, mizzle
  • lluvioso = rainy
  • pluvioso = rainy, pluvious
  • pluvial = rain, pluvial (of, pertaining to, or produced by rain)

Incidentally, the English word rain comes from Middle English reyn (rain, shower), from Old English reġn (rain), from Proto-West Germanic *regn (rain), from Proto-Germanic *regną (rain), possibly from pre-Germanic *Hréǵ-no-, from Proto-Indo-European *Hreǵ- (to flow). It’s cognate with Regen (rain) in German, regn (rain) in Danish, Faroese, Icelandic, Norwegian and Swedish, rõki (drizzling rain) in Lithuanian, and regar (irrigate, water, scatter, hose, ruin) in Spanish [source].

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Kinder Kinder

There’s a joke / meme that goes something like No matter how kind you are … German children are Kinder.


from Imgflip Meme Generator

This is a bilingual pun – in German Kinder means children, while in English kinder means nicer, more gentle, generous, affectionate, etc. These two words look alike, but are they related? Let’s find out.

The German word Kind (child, kid, offspring) comes from Middle-High German kint (child), from Old High German kind (child, descendants), from Proto-West-Germanic *kind (child), from Proto-Germanic *kindą, *kinþą (child), from Pre-Germanic *ǵénh₁tom, from Proto-Indo-European *ǵenh₁- (to produce, beget, give birth) [source].

Kind in English means such things as having a benevolent, courteous, friendly, generous, gentle, liberal, sympathetic or warm-hearted nature or disposition; affectionate, favourable, mild, gentle or forgiving. It can also mean a type, category (What kind of nonsense is this?); goods or services used as payment (They paid me in kind), or a makeshift or otherwise atypical specimen (The box served as a kind of table).

Kind as in benevolent comes from Middle English kinde, kunde, kende (kind, type, sort), while kind as in type comes from Middle English cunde (kind, nature, sort) / kynde (one’s inherent nature; character, natural disposition), and both come from Old English cynd (sort, kind, type, gender, generation, race) / ġecynd (nature, kind, class), from Proto-West-Germanic *kundi / *gakundiz, from Proto-Germanic *kinþiz (kind, race), from Proto-Indo-European *ǵénh₁tis (birth, production), from *ǵenh₁- (to produce, beget, give birth) [source].

So, the German Kind and the English kind do ultimately come from the same roots. Are German Kinder kinder though, or are they the Wurst, and somewhat gross?

Other words produced, beget and given birth to by the Proto-Indo-European root *ǵenh₁- include: kind (child), koning (king, monarch) and kunne (gender, sex) in Dutch, cognate, engine(er), gender, gene, general, genesis, genetic, genial, genius, gentle, kin, king, nature, oxygen and progeny in English, König (king) in German, nascere (to be born, bud, sprout) in Italian, gentis (tribe, genus, family, kin) in Lithuanian, geni (to be born, birth) in Welsh [source].

Incidentally, the English word child is not related to the German word Kind. It comes from Middle English child (baby, infant, toddler, child, offspring), from Old English ċild (child, baby), from Proto-West Germanic *kilþ, *kelþ, from Proto-Germanic *kelþaz (womb; fetus), from Proto-Indo-European *ǵelt- (womb), or from Proto-Indo-European *gel- (to ball up, amass). It is related to kuld (brood, litter) in Danish, and kelta (lap) in Icelandic though, and possibly kalt (cold, chilly, calm) and kühl (cool, calm, restrained) in German [source].

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Early Peaches

The apricot or Prunus armeniaca, is named after Armenia, and has been cultivated in that area for a very long time. However, it was probably first domesticated in central Asia.

apricots glow

The Prunus armeniaca or common apricot is the most commonly cultivated apricot species. Other species are available that are native to China, Siberia and Europe [source].

Like the fruit, the word apricot has undergone quite a journey to arrive in English. It started in Latin as persica praecocia (“early ripening peach”), then moved into Greek as πραικόκιον (praikókion – apricot). That became βερικοκκίᾱ (berikokkíā – apricot tree) in Byzantine Greek, which was borrowed into Arabic as اَلْبَرْقُوق‎ (al-barqūq, – plum), then into Andalusian Arabic as الْبَرْقُوق‎ (al-barqūq – the plums). It jumped into Spanish as albaricoque (apricot), and into Catalan as a(l)bercoc (apricot). It was then borrowed into Middle French and became aubercot and later abricot.

Finally it arrived in English in the 1550s as abrecock, which eventually became apricot [source].

A word from the same roots is precocious, which originally referred to flowers or fruit that developed or ripened before the usual time, and later came to refer to people and other things [source].

Other words from the same roots include biscuit, charcuterie, concoct, cook, cusine, kitchen and kiln in English, kepti (to bake, roast) in Lithuanian, and poeth (hot, roast, cooked) in Welsh.

The ultimate root of these words (or at least parts of them) is the Proto-Indo-European word *pekw- (to cook, ripen) [source].

Gardens and Castles

The word for garden in Russian, and also in Belarusian, Ukrainian and Serbian, is сад [sat], which also means orchard. It comes from the Proto-Slavic word *sadъ (plant, garden).

The word for garden in most other Slavic languages is the same: sad in Croatian, Slovenian, Polish, Slovak and Sorbian. There are also similar words in Latvian (sads) and Lithuanian (sõdas) [source].

The word sad also exists in Czech, but just means orchard. The Czech word for garden is zahrada [ˈzaɦrada], which comes from za (for, in, behind), and hrad (castle), from the Proto-Slavic *gȏrdъ* (settlement, enclosed place). So zahrada could be translated as “in/behind the castle” [source].

*The Proto-Slavic *gȏrdъ comes ultimately from the Proto-Indo-European *ǵʰórtos (enclosure), which is also the root of the Irish gort (wheatfield), the Welsh garth (hill, enclosure), the Latin hortus (garden), and the English horticulture, yard and garden, and related words in other languages.

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