A berry merry Christmas: the magic of mistletoe

‘Mistletoe hung from the gas brackets in all the front parlours; there was sherry and walnuts and bottled beer and crackers by the dessertspoons; and cats in their fur-abouts watched the fires; and the high-heaped fire spat, all ready for the chestnuts and the mulling pokers.’

From A Child’s Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas

Steeped in myth and legend and a potent winter symbol, spheres of mistletoe hang in trees looking, in this festive season, like giant Christmas baubles.  Revered by druids, eagerly sought by would-be lovers, it’s also an essential habitat for several species of insect which live nowhere else, among them, the pretty mistletoe marble moth, Celypha woodiana. With icy white winter berries and small, tough evergreen leaves, it’s hemi-parasitic plant, absorbing water and nutrients from its host tree but also making its own food by photosynthesis.

How and where does it grow?

We don’t generally think of mistletoe as having flowers but it does of course; these tiny, yellow-green blooms are the source of the berries. It relies on birds to distribute its seeds; however, the berries aren’t appetising to most, probably because of their colour and the slimy gloop inside. While effective in sticking seeds to branches, this goo lacks appeal as a foodstuff to the majority of birds, with the exception of some native thrushes and visiting blackcaps and waxwings. While this seems like an unfortunate evolutionary oversight, mistle thrushes adore them and will defend trees that have been colonised with some ferocity, so it seems likely that this is how the bird acquired its name. Once the berries are eaten the seeds are smeared on branches by birds’ beaks or pass through their digestive systems to be deposited later.

In this country, European mistletoe, Viscum album, grows mainly in the south west midlands around the Welsh border – although it’s to be seen elsewhere too. It’s found on deciduous trees, particularly apple, lime, poplar and hawthorn and was once a common sight in orchards. While you might expect to come across it in dark and mysterious forests because of its mythical associations, host trees need to be in a fairly open environment, so look out for it in parkland and gardens as well as orchards.

Similar plants, also classed as mistletoes, grow in the Americas. There are over 200 species of these phoradendrons inhabiting a wide range of habitats all the way from deserts to tropical regions. They include some desert species with almost invisible, scale-like leaves and ‘hairy’ mistletoe, which although not as exciting as it sounds, does have fine down on its foliage.

Even stranger variations are to be found in South Africa, sometimes with the bulk of the plant living inside its host. All that is to be seen of these secretive beasts are a couple of flowers and berries (and if you look very closely, a few minute leaves), giving the impression of having been glued onto the host plant as a form of minimalist decoration. Flowers are only pushed out to produce berries so that birds can play their part in reproduction, and the leaves so that the mistletoe is able to photosynthesise. Find out more here

To inspect more closely the microcosm that is mistletoe, follow the link

In folklore and legend

Mistletoe was linked with the winter solstice, revered by the Druids who believed it had healing powers as well as the ability to ward off evil. To retain its magical properties it was imperative that it be cut from oak with golden sickle. Fans of the comic strip adventures of Asterix the Gaul will remember Getafix the druid and his frequent forays into the woods to carry out this task. (Although the exact recipe was a secret, the plant was said to be an ingredient in Getafix’s magic potion, which gave the inhabitants of just ‘one small village of indomitable Gauls the superhuman strength to hold out against the Roman invaders’.) Mistletoe also had to be caught in a cloak, for if it touched the ground its magical powers would be lost.

The origins of the Christmas tradition of kissing under the mistletoe are uncertain. But it has associations in many legends with love, peace, forgiveness and fertility. Warring Scandinavian tribes, if they met under trees bearing mistletoe, would lay down their arms until the next day, and medieval women would wrap it around their arms and wrists to increase their fertility. Norse legend tells how Balder the Beautiful was killed by a spear of mistletoe, only to be resurrected and for mistletoe to be dedicated thereafter to acts of happiness and usefulness. And Greek heroes bearing mistletoe were granted safe passage to the underworld.

Can you grow your own?

Yes you can! Although it can be tricky. Mistletoe is dioecious, meaning plants are either male or female, and both are needed for female plants to produce berries. Sowing (or rather placing) the seeds is simple and no aftercare is required. But it’s slow growing and can take months to germinate. It may then be two or three years before the leaves appear, and another two or three before the final reward of flowers and berries. Although semi-parasitic, it rarely damages host plants.

So, if you’re buying mistletoe this year and have a potential host tree, why not give it a try? In conservation terms it’s a keystone species, meaning that it helps to hold the ecosystem together.  Studies have shown that in areas from which mistletoe has been cleared, bird and other wildlife populations decrease.  The mistletoe marble moth, for example, is only found in six counties in England and is listed as a priority conservation species. So preserving this intriguing plant is undoubtedly a good thing to do.

There’s a step-by-step growing guide here

Perhaps mistletoe’s association with magic and mystery is partly because of its out-of -the-ordinary parasitic growth habit and unusual structure – those oddly branching stems with two symmetrically placed leaves dangling right at the end – as well as its fittingly snowy winter berries. All parts of it are toxic. But research is being carried out into its use as a drug in cancer therapy. How apt that a plant associated with the winter solstice and new beginnings should also be one that bears hope.

Feel free to read more of our blogs here