Tag Archives: nature

California Lemon Ritual: Visiting Family On The East Coast

Nationality: American
Age: 63
Occupation: Retired
Residence: Alameda, California

Informant Information

Age: 63

Date of Performance: 2/18/2025

Language: English

Nationality: American

Occupation: Retired

Primary Language: English

Residence: Alameda, California

Text

“If you grew up in California and all your family lives on the East Coast, you grow a lemon tree. When you visit family there, you bring lemons because it’s very exotic because you can’t grow lemons on the East Coast. You put them in a bag and then pack them in your suitcase. Eventually, some family members began visiting us on the West Coast when they got older, and they’d pick their own lemons from our lemon tree. I have a lemon tree in my backyard as a present for my husband because he’s from the South, and you also can’t grow lemons there.”

Context

The informant was born and raised in California, while her extended family remained on the East Coast. Her parents were originally from the East Coast, and she made frequent visits throughout her life. As part of those visits, she carried a seemingly simple but meaningful gift — fresh California lemons. This act became ritualized within her family, rooted in the regional differences in agriculture and climate. Lemons, while technically possible to grow in parts of the East and South, are far more common and thriving in California’s mild climate. In colder or more humid regions, lemon trees are vulnerable to environmental damage and rarely flourish.

For her family, receiving these lemons symbolized a piece of California, a vibrant, fragrant token of the West Coast lifestyle. When family members later visited her in California, they cherished the opportunity to pick lemons from her tree themselves. The ritual became a two-way cultural exchange, a reflection of rootedness and connection to place. Later, she planted a lemon tree in her own backyard as a housewarming gift to her Southern-born husband, making the tree not only a familial tradition but also a personal and romantic gesture.

Analysis

This lemon-gifting ritual illustrates how everyday items can carry deep cultural and emotional meaning, especially across geographic boundaries. What begins as a practical act of bringing fresh produce to family transforms into a ritual that marks identity, nostalgia, and care. The lemon tree functions as a living symbol of California, and its fruit becomes a physical expression of home, warmth, and abundance.

The act of transporting lemons across coasts shows the significance of regional differences in agricultural production while also emphasizing how natural resources can become symbolic commodities in family relationships. The ritual communicates more than just gift-giving. It speaks to the longing for home, the pride in one’s origin, and the desire to share that with loved ones who live far away. Furthermore, the informant’s continuation of the tradition by planting her own tree and offering it as a gift to her husband reflects how rituals evolve to include new meanings. The lemon tree is now both a bridge to her past and a symbol of unity in her marriage, showing how folklore adapts to new contexts while preserving its emotional roots.

“Tabi Tabi Po Apo” – Filipino Superstition

Nationality: Filipino
Age: 28
Occupation: Prosthetist Orthotists
Residence: Atlanta, Georgia
Language: English

Text:

“Tabi tabi po apo” is roughly Filipino slang for “excuse me.”

It’s the belief that you must say excuse me before you pee on the side of the road.

Context:

The performer grew up in Bicol, Philippines which is a rural southern province of Luzon. He grew up in an impoverished area and played outside with with the neighborhood kids almost everyday.

“Growing up, we were told by our lolo and lola. When you play around the trees or bushes or plants, or just nature, where there are no walking paths, you have to respect the elders of nature. It’s like when you go to the forest right, you have to respect nature and all the things that you don’t see like spirits or children in the forest. It’s bad karma and can attract vengeful spirits like if you cross in their territory they become territorial and put a curse on you.”

Analysis:

“Apo” is a respectful term which is similar to saying “ma’am” or “sir” and in this case applies to spirits. It’s respect for the “unseen” spiritual world and nature. The nature respect could be tied to folk Catholicism (a blend between Catholicism and superstition). 80-90% of Filipinos are Catholic as the Spanish colonized and brought over the religion in the 1500s, and so many of their indigenous beliefs mixed with Caloic ones, making this phrase widely accepted across generations.

Another practical reason for the phrase’s popularity, especially in more rural or less developed areas, is the Philippines’ abundant vegetation and loosely defined land boundaries. In communities like where the performer grew up, where peeing outdoors is common, especially for children, saying “tabi tabi po, apo” is also a way to teach mindfulness and caution when interacting with the natural world—both physically and spiritually.

Balete Drive – Ghost Story

Nationality: Filipino
Age: 51
Occupation: Software Engineer Directing Manager
Residence: Naperville, Illinois
Language: English

Text:

“Me and a couple of my friends were driving along from a late night gig and we’ve had a great fill of drinks but not that intoxicated (as far as I remember). There aren’t a lot of vehicles at this time, especially on local roads, but still decided to take a shortcut just for kicks.

The road was plain and looks maintained enough since it’s a less busier street than most, maybe due to its reputation of having paranormal activities.

Balete Drive has several stories about ghost sightings and ‘white ladies’ haunting passersby, and a big abandoned haunted mansion right in the middle of the stretch. Most of them likely fabricated of course – to keep the mystique going. We’re not full-fledged studs I as I recall but we thought it’ll be fun to test it out while we’re in this state and certainly less inhibited.

Just before we reached the big house, one of my friends unceremoniously said he needed to pee…

We stopped right in front of the worn out hedges bordering the house front yard. It was a bit dilapidated and dark. But he had to pee. And he did. We all did.

As we drove past the house after relieving ourselves, we noticed two headlights following us seemingly out of nowhere. We casually stayed at a constant speed, but the vehicle kept inching closer. We gathered some speed, turned the corner and lost the trailer. We looked at each other and grinned- that was much ado about nothing. We hit another long stretch of road and to our surprise, we ended right back in front of the big house at Balete drive. The headlights turned up again and right back on our tail. This felt weird. We tried to step on a bit and turned the other corner, lost the stalker and relaxed a little.

Things just got weirder – we were right back at the house (what the…) and the lights were back. We were starting to panic, our collective senses restarted, and we were yelling at each other- harassing the driver and redirecting him in all directions. We cant seem to get off this road and always take us back to the same house. What are we to do? Have we been cursed? Are the stories real? The vehicle following us isn’t letting up either. Now they’re honking, the passengers now animated in the other car, signaling for us to stop. What is happening? There’s no way we’re stopping here, not now. Fear has definitely crept in and we’re way past panic. This has gone on at least 5 times now. We sped through the same street and the same house- the facade looking more menacing and creepy each time we see it, slowly dealing us a mortifying feeling of defeat.

With one more rush of adrenaline, we held one last bit of composure and drove straight ahead until we hit a dark narrowing alleyway that seems to swallow us every meter we travel. We finally saw a different exit, merged onto the main road and drove farther from the damned place. The morning sun has started to peep. We can feel a collective sigh of relief until we realized the other vehicle had been on our heels throughout. This startled us and panic reignited inside the car. We discussed our options incoherently but concluded we couldn’t be any worse since we got out of that insanity loop. So we stopped at the next gas station. And the other car followed suit.

Fear has turned to relief, then discomfort and now annoyance. We’re back in the real world now and this unwarranted stalking has got to stop. We decided to confront them. There are 3 of us, all back to our consciousness – to the point where we question if what we witnessed even actually happened. We chalked up the courage to unstrap, picked up some “weapons” and stepped out of the car. We approached the other car as the driver stepped out to greet us. His face is lined up with a mix of dread, exhaustion, and… gratitude? I saw the lady on the passenger side looking like she’s been screaming her eyes out and now just sits in shock staring nowhere. My buddies now also joined me in the huddle as the other guy quivered to say something…

“We’ve been driving around that block for we don’t know how many hours… my girlfriend had just about lost it – I can still hear her trembling voice almost surrendering to the inevitable… until we saw you drive by and stopped at the house. We were reluctant to follow you thinking you may be part of this, but then when you drove past again, we thought you might also be in the same predicament as us. (Again? We saw you trail us as soon as we left the house… what are you talking about?). We tried to let you know that we are also lost and would like to join you… but each time we gained we had to hang back…” – then the guy started to sob. “We had to each time the lady in white following you would turn her head around to look at us… she had a knife or dagger in her hand and seem intent to get to you. We mustered up enough courage to just step on it as soon as you did and followed you all the way through here… and we can’t thank you enough.” And he broke down to his knees in front of us.

My friends and I looked at each other in weary unison – “what lady?” We turned around to find our car… the dagger still lodged at the back of it.”

Context:

The performer was born and raised in the Philippines, and often told stories with his High School friends in lui of not having a one or access to the internet in the 80’s. They heard it from an older male classmate who heard it from another classmate and so on and so forth. The performer tweaked the tale to have it sound like a 1st person narration with the intention of scaring his kids with “stories from his youth.”

Analysis:

Balete Drive is a well-known street in Quezon City because it often features the white lady who is the universsal Filipino depiction of the traditional “white ghost.” Balete Drive is a brilliant tale because it connects the many small islands and spread out diverse regions of the Philippines. The Philippines has withstood colonization and are a group of people who vastly range in appearances. From looking Mestiza to Chinita to Morena to having different dialects, ghost stories such as Balete Drive are an iconic ghost symbol that unifies the Philippines.

Additionally, balete trees are often connoted with spirtual energy as being something either feared or respected. The tale of balete drive serves as a sort of memorate for this sacred perception of balete trees as the more stories such as the one the performer said are told, the greater the fear and veneration for the trees grows. The reputation toward balete trees only increases as more and more people tell and believe in these tales.

Nature’s unpredictable… Or is it? 

Nationality: African American

Primary Language: English

Other language(s): French

Age: 65

Occupation: Management Consultant

Residence: Upstate, NY

Performance Date: 4/20/2025

Context: 

My informant, WB, is a family member of mine who lives in the Hudson Valley area of New York. From what I remember, they’ve always been into signs, aspects of nature that may influence decisions, and a lot of times, they’d be spiritual. I asked her one day, especially as I got more into science growing up, if there were any signs they could explain with science that they’d understand growing up that I may have never heard of, and there were. 

Text: 

“A ring around the moon means it’s going to rain. Growing up near farms 60 years ago before the sophistication of modern weather forecasting, we looked for signs in nature to predict weather. This of course could only be a source for prediction if it was a moonlit night. So when it was not a moonlit night, we listened for crickets to indicate a warming or cooling of the weather.  Also, whistling frogs for the coming of spring. Other indicators of bad weather were if your joints ache. This means a lot to me because it connects me to nature and the wonders around us in the natural world. To this date, I listen for crickets and whistling frogs to predict weather conditions. This was all passed down to us generation after generation. And it turns out that there was logic to this:

A ring around the moon: moisture high up in the atmosphere.

Whistling frogs: a warming trend for the coming spring and the frogs thaw. 

Aching joint: barometric pressure changes.

Crickets: hatch in the late summer.”

Analysis:  

This entry is a beautiful example of weather lore. Plus, it’s rooted in a time before people had access to modern meteorological tools. Though in my research, the belief that “a ring around the moon means it’s going to rain,” is actually one of the most widely known pieces of weather folklore, and has some scientific backing: the ring, or lunar halo, forms due to ice crystals in cirrostratus clouds high in the atmosphere, which often precede storm systems. So in that sense, this isn’t just folklore; it’s observational science passed down through generations. I also love how WB connects this tradition to other nature-based signs, like cricket chirps, whistling frogs, to aching joints. From my analysis of such signs, I found that many of these signs actually do correlate with changes in weather or season. For instance, Cleveland Clinic, in their article, “How Changes in Weather Affect Joint Pain,” explains the barometric pressure to joints, and according to the University of Minnesota’s Twin Cities, in their article, “Songs of Spring: A Ribbiting Chorus – Bell Museum,” frogs do indeed become more vocal as temperatures rise, signaling spring. What stands out to me most though is how WB frames all of this as a meaningful connection to nature, especially as our generations start to get lost in the digital age. This entry is fascinating to me because it’s not just about weather predictions, it’s about a whole way of understanding and interacting with the natural world. WB doesn’t just remember these signs nostalgically; WB still uses them, which shows how folklore can remain alive and functional even in a most contemporary context.

Eddie

DETAILS:

  • Nationality: American
  • Language: English
  • Age: 53
  • Residence: Berkeley, CA
  • Occupation: Psychologist
  • Collected on: 11/28/2024

CONTEXT:

Informant was a camp counselor at a sleepaway camp called Camp Tawonga near Yosemite. This happened during their first year as a camp counselor.

DIRECT TRANSCRIPTION:

SS: “ A  little more than three quarters of the way through the summer, and the camp always had a number of people from all over the world, this one guy, Eddie, was the lifeguard, one of the lifeguards. There were many lifeguards, one of them, and he was from the Netherlands. And he just wanted to experience a new place, and he had been picked. It was not an easy fit, but he was very well intentioned and had a huge personality. And the kids really loved him. The staff, it was a little bit of a harder connection, but he was really good. Very well loved by the kids and he did a really good job. Camp Tawonga at the time used to take kids not only on backpacking trips, but also on day trips in Yosemite. So, um, on one of the day trips he went with, I remember the two counselors, and the, so you always had a lifeguard, a wilderness leader, and then the campers and their counselors. And so there was a group of, I think they were probably like 9, 10 year old boys, and there were two counselors, and the, wilderness leader and then Eddie was the lifeguard because they were going on a day hike to specifically a lake that kids for years at Camp Tawonga had gone to to go swimming. It’s a great swimming spot. And that particular day, unfortunately, there was a really, it was just a bad luck situation where there was an avalanche of rocks of small ish to medium sized rocks that happened because a gazelle of some sort, a deer, from what they could tell, happened to cross over at the top of this mountain hillside, where the path was, and it just sent this, you know, sent a series of rocks down, and unfortunately, um, well, fortunately, none of the kids were hurt. They all started to notice it happening, and in order to save some of the little kids. He did this very heroic thing and kind of went over to push the kid out of the, one of the kids out of the way and he got hit in the head and he died instantly. It was horrible. Oh my god. Horrible, horrible, horrible. He was like 19, 20. So the kids all went to bed that night and the counselors and all the staff, and, um, they told the staff here’s what happened and Eddie has died and we have already called his family. And so as you can imagine, it was very upsetting beyond upsetting for everybody. The staff was even tighter after that, as you can imagine. And, um, and at Tawonga, you know, everyone, the staff, gets together in the evenings. And we all were talking, and, um, what was, it was maybe a week or two later, and, what became clear is everyone was talking about Eddie, of course, and we were talking about our feelings about it. And a few of us had an experience where there was this, so, camp is huge, a lot of land, and, um, there was this one section, I actually still remember it, that was this little, there was this little bridge over a creek that went from arts and crafts, I don’t know if you remember all this, arts and crafts to the nature center. And it’s not an area I went very often unless I was taking my bunk to those places or between those places. But I was there for some reason, maybe on my own, like coming to get someone or get something for my bunk. And I was by myself and I remember thinking, something’s weird here. Like it feels different. It feels weird. Like, and I got shivers, and it was, camp was hot, so like, that was notable. I got shivers, and I remember I was like, oh, this is kind of weird, like, and I thought of Eddie. So I just thought of Eddie. Now, you could say, like, everyone was thinking of Eddie, of course, all the time, and everyone was a little bit traumatized and sad. And, what became weirder was that when I went to one of these staff meetings in the dining hall, and we were all talking, several people said, you know, do any of you guys feel like you have felt Eddie’s presence? And so several people said, yeah. And what became really weird, and I still get shivers about it is everyone said the same place. That little bridge over the Creek going between the arts and crafts center and the nature center was where everyone said, that’s where I felt it. And I still get shivers from it.”

INFORMANTS OPINION:

SS: “I mean, I was 19, I do think there is something about like conceptualizing mortality and what happens and all those things, but it was noteworthy and we all kind of took a moment and were like, that’s weird. And as a result, we’re still talking about Eddie decades later. Decades later. As a result, Eddie made himself felt.”

PERSONAL INTERPRETATION:

Ghost stories are often a way of creating community and are shared between family and friends. In some instances, ghost stories are used as a way to confront grief as a part of a community. In this case, I was struck by how the counselors’ stories of “feeling” Eddie’s presence were perhaps used as a way to connect over grief, and as a way to know that no one is alone in their grief.