The flower panicles of the harilik hobukastan, Common or European Horse Chestnut, (Aesculus hippoCASTANum) can be up to 30 cm tall. Although Estonia is far north of their natural range, they have acclimatised well and are enjoying a particularly long blooming season. Tallinn is ablaze. Photo: Riina Kindlam
Never before have I noticed that Tallinn is so full of horse chestnuts (hobukastan). Thanks to this year’s slow and steady spring, their tall, white, torch-like blossoms are enjoying a particularly long and sweet-smelling run. These handsome trees attract attention year round with their huge early buds, unique hand-shaped 7-lobed leaves and their fruit – wonderful leathery nuts protected by a bright green prickly shell. (They have also been called okasõunapuu – thorny apple tree.) Not only kids have trouble resisting picking up shiny brown chestnuts (kastanimuna – chestnut “egg”). Carrying one around in your pocket is said to help ease rheumatism or simply to bring good luck (you must find it in the depths of your pocket and warm it in your hand now and again).
The horse chestnut is actually a southerner, native to the Balkans and shores of the Mediterranean but was carried north in the 16th century as an ornamental tree, becoming a favourite of parks and boulevards throughout Europe such as Kastanienallee in Berlin and Kastani tänav in Tartu.
Carrying its endearing fruit bobbles in your mitten or pocket is a start, but the horse chestnut is actually an amazing circulatory tonic. It is known to strengthen the walls of blood vessels and is used for treating varicose veins, phlebitis (clots) and all manner of inflammation including haemorrhoids. Horse chestnut creams are sold in Estonian pharmacies. Its name may possibly comes from the fact that chestnuts have been given to horses as an expectorant, to loosen their cough.
A certain Märt Laarman print in a book of poetry I was given years back has made me see chestnut blossoms differently ever since. The girl with the torches is everywhere. In fact horse chestnut blossoms have been described as “candelabras of the gods”. So if you are carrying a torch for someone this spring, this romantically lit Christmas tree is the perfect picnic backdrop.
Artist, teacher and writer Märt Laarman (1896 – 1979) illustrated each poem with a woodblock print in his “Kylmad rubaiid” (Cold Rubais), first published in 1939 and reprinted in 1996. (A rubai is a Persian form of 4-line poetry.) The print illustrates the following text:
Kui, kevad, kastankandelaabreilt valgust kallad,
õisryys kõik hinged anduvasse vallu tallad,
kas seks, et meele heidaks armastaja synge
kes käib su järel, syda jääst ja mantliks hallad?
Spring, when you pour light from chestnut candelabras,
dressed in blossoms, treading all souls into yielding pain,
it is so the brooding lover will fall into despair,
the one who follows you with an icy heart and frosts as his cloak?
Kui, kevad, kastankandelaabreilt valgust kallad,
õisryys kõik hinged anduvasse vallu tallad,
kas seks, et meele heidaks armastaja synge
kes käib su järel, syda jääst ja mantliks hallad?
Spring, when you pour light from chestnut candelabras,
dressed in blossoms, treading all souls into yielding pain,
it is so the brooding lover will fall into despair,
the one who follows you with an icy heart and frosts as his cloak?
