The Witches’ Alphabet, also known as the Theban Alphabet,
has long been used by practitioners of sorcery to encode their
writings. The oldest surviving book containing the Theban Alphabet is
Johannes Trithemius’ Polygraphia, c.1518. This exerpt
explains how Trithemius learned of the alphabet from a pre-existing book
on magick, now lost to time, which he attributes to Peter d’Abano:

“Sequitur aliud alphabetum Honorii cognomento Thebani, cuius
ministerio suas in magicis fatuitates abscondit, sicut Petrus de Apono
testatur in suo maiore libro quarto.“

Here follows another alphabet of Honorius surnamed the Theban, and
the use thereof is for hiding the foolishness of his magic, as Petrus de
Abano testifies in his greater fourth book.

favourite swedish words

drömsk – dreamy
blomstrande – blooming
blunda – close your eyes
snö – snow
älskling – a pet name, kind of like “my love”
älva – fairy

havet – the sea

sötnos – cutie, literally translates to “sweet nose”
tindra – twinkle
smultron – wild strawberries

räv – fox

ö – island
vissla – whistle

Memento mori: (Latin: “remember (that you have) to die”)
The
medieval Latin theory and practice of reflection on mortality,
especially as a means of considering the vanity of earthly life and the
transient nature of all earthly goods and pursuits.

Mono no aware (物の哀れ): (Japanese: “the sensitivity to ephemera”)
The awareness of impermanence (無常 mujō),
or transience of things, and both a transient gentle sadness (or
wistfulness) at their passing as well as a longer, deeper gentle sadness
about this state being the reality of life.

L’appel du vide: (French: “call of the void”)
The
psychological phenomenon in which people, with no desire to die, find
themselves faced with a steep cliff and experience a strong desire to
leap.

Amor fati: (Latin: “the love of one’s fate”)
An attitude in
which one sees everything that happens in one’s life, including
suffering and loss, as good; or, at the very least, necessary.

This breadth of rain names are specific, descriptive and highly nuanced—a reminder of how keenly and thoughtfully ancient Hawaiians observed and were connected to their environment. With these words they distinguished Hawaii’s rains in a multitude of ways: by color, intensity, duration, at what times they would arrive, the angles or paths they’d fall in, how a certain rain is linked to a place or area throughout the Islands.

There’s the kili noe, a fine, light rain, but it’s not to be mistaken for the kili ʻohu, which was even finer and lighter. Depending where you lived on Oʻahu, when the rain fell in a shape that would circle your home, that was a pōʻaihale rain. The island of Niʻihau has a special rain, the kulu pākakahi, which appears in November.

What’s amazing is how nothing about these names are arbitrary.

There’s a rain named called Hukiheʻenehu, given to a Hilo rain for when the nehu fish was running. When this misty rain fell off the south-east coast of Hawaii Island, Hawaiians knew it meant to pull up their nets and catch them.

Rain names like hoʻopala ʻōhiʻa indicated when the native ʻōhiʻa would ripen, and the Hoʻopuluhīnano indicated where on Kauaʻi the hīnano grew.

The kuāua is a name given to a rain without wind extending over a small area. The ʻuala (Hawaiian sweet potato) farmer would count this rain to help determine when it was time to plant.

In addition to recognizing how integral rains are to survival, Hawaiians are also informed spiritually and emotionally by them. Apo pue kahi is a name given to a rain that’s felt after a loved one passes.

“Our kūpuna (ancestors) were so attuned to their environment that they assigned individual names to the multitude of winds and rains occurring throughout the archipelago,” says Collette Leimomi Akana, author of “Hānau Ka Ua – Hawaiian Rain Names,” the most comprehensive record of its kind that compiles this extensive part of Hawaiian’s vocabulary, sourcing its oral tradition, mele (song), oli (chants), moʻolelo (stories), ʻōlelo noʻeau (proverbs) and written literature. “I believe they named each wind and rain because they encountered them almost daily and felt a kinship with them.

Hawaiians have more than 200 words for rain