The naming of things ...

Buachaille Etive Mòr (1022m)

The mountains in Scotland that are higher than 3,000 feet (914.4m)  are referred to as Munros, named after Sir Hugh Thomas Munro, 4th Baronet of Lindertis, who was the the first person to compile a list of them in 1891.  There are currently 282 Munros (the list is revised occasionally) and climbing them is a well-known pastime known as "Munro bagging". When I lived in Glasgow, I bagged about 20 or so Munros in a desultory sort of way, but just as much fun as actually climbing them is simply saying their names, which despite their exotic spelling all mean things like "Big Red Hill" or "Brown Round Rock". Take for example, the pronunciation of Stop Dearg, one of the peaks on Buachaille Etive Mòr.  Even more challenging is perhaps Bràigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain. Of course the fact that I learnt to speak Afrikaans as a young child and was completely bilingual for a time helps with the guttural Gaelic sounds. Unfortunately, my wife and sons don't share my passion for this pastime and  roll their eyes whenever I come out with one of these names just for fun.

So why would I suddenly be thinking about Munro bagging and speaking Gaelic? Well a common question that Cath and I get asked about our plans to quit work and go and live off the land in Tasmania is about mental stimulation. How can you drop out of your working environment but still to sustain a sufficient level of mental acuity and thereby ensure that there is no immediate and precipitous drop in brain function? I have been giving this question some serious thought and have come up with a very nice solution. To wit, I plan to learn all the Latin names of the plants we put into the garden! This is clearly going to be as much fun as reciting the names of Munros. I mean how can you look at a Golden Elm without immediately rolling "Ulmus glabra `Lutescens'" off your tongue, or observe the beautiful leaves of Angels' Gold and not be motivated to mutter "Physocarpus Opulifolius".

Ulmus glabra `Lutescens'

I mentioned this excellent idea to Cath the other day.  She immediately rolled her eyes and laid down the law. It seems that if I recite more than three Latin names on any one day then she won't be responsible for her actions. I turned to Pepper for support, but if you look very carefully you can just her disappearing in the top left of the photo. Clearly she isn't too keen on my Latin pronunciation project either. 

I have, however,  discovered that botanical Latin is actually rather a fascinating subject. Up to the Norman Conquest in 1066, Latin pronunciation in Britain was driven primarily by missionaries sent out from Rome by Pope Gregory the Great. After 1066, the pronunciation had a strong French influence but by the time of Chaucer,  Latin came to be pronounced like Middle English. Apparently some Victorian scholars tried to reintroduce classical pronunciation, but in botany the traditional English pronunciation remained. 

A short search allowed me to find this simple little explanation:

"The diphthongs ae and oe are pronounced as e, either long or short, depending on their position in the word; au is pronounced as in August; and eu sounds like you except when used to transliterate the Greek eo, in which case each letter is sounded." (see https://www.hortmag.com/weekly-tips/latin-pronunciation)

I can see that this quest is going to be a lot of fun!! But ...  in the meantime ... I guess it's back to slashing  the grass ...

The Stihl slashers