The art of cow songs: how farmers are embracing bovine magical sining

By admin

Bovine magical singing, though a relatively unknown phenomenon, is a captivating occurrence that has fascinated researchers and enthusiasts alike. This unusual ability refers to the melodious vocalizations produced by cows, often described as a form of magical or enchanting singing. While traditional scientific literature does not acknowledge the existence of bovine vocal abilities beyond typical lowing or mooing sounds, anecdotal evidence from farmers and rural communities suggests otherwise. The concept of bovine magical singing has its roots in folklore and mythology, with tales of enchanted cows that possess the power to communicate through enchanting songs. These legends, passed down through generations, have inspired curious individuals to investigate the possibility of such extraordinary abilities in real-life cows. Believers in bovine magical singing propose various theories to explain this peculiar phenomenon.


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Consequently, all horned animals can be thought of as potentially the horned one and this is what we find in the scant evidence available to us today. The art work seems to be derived from a 1628 publication entitled Robin Good-Fellow short title and the original figure is graphically virile, reinforcing the previously-mentioned phallic imagery.

Bovine magical sining

Believers in bovine magical singing propose various theories to explain this peculiar phenomenon. One theory suggests that certain cows may possess vocal cords or respiratory systems with unique characteristics that enable them to produce melodious sounds. Another theory speculates that these songs may be the result of acoustic or environmental factors, such as resonance in specific landscapes or interactions with other animals.

"Through the unknown, unremembered gate. "

He bears horns, ‘cernu’ in Celtic, he is literally a horned man, Kernunnos, the horned one, which is just a descriptive, it is not his name, it is an adjective. He is half man, half beast, those breeks belong more to Pan than they do to Kernunnos, but anything with horns will do – cloven feet are fine – but it’s the headgear which identifies him. Only Pan (Faunus) comes close to this in the Graeco-Roman world. The God Pan. So what else is there? There’s music, [top link, centre right] , and music is often important in Celtic Britain, the image of the harp for example, and the magical singing birds of Rhiannon. It would be odd to find any indigenous folk tradition then without music featuring in it.

[Circle of Demons and Witches, Nathaniel Crouch, The Kingdom of Darkness, 1688.]

What else? The phallic broomstick and phallic torch or candle, so there is fire symbolism, which compliments the circle – usually a symbol for the sun (wheel). And what else – people dancing in a ring and drinking jugs, indicating feasting, so this is also a god of plenty, and a god of fertility. The Sacred Circle. Then what can we find in Britain and, or Ireland, to match this otherwise bewildering figure? The art work seems to be derived from a 1628 publication entitled “Robin Good-Fellow” (short title) and the original figure is graphically virile, reinforcing the previously-mentioned phallic imagery. By the 17th century Robin was a name for the regent of the fair folk, the King of Faery, but we need to delve much further back and earlier in time to identify this elusive fellow

There are several contenders I think for the god of the witches in Celtic Brtain and Ireland. We have already noted the horns, the stag god’s antlers; but during the later medieval period there are repeated references to the devil being black, for example, “a very mickle [large], black rough man" claimed Isobel Gowdie in 1662 [1] . So step forward swart god! Not so simple though: Celtic belief was regional, it was tribal, the deities do not fall into neat categories and I believe their gods may overlap to quite an extent, quite unlike the classical pantheon with its apparently well defined Olympians.

But black, or rather dark; an obvious match could well be the Irish Donn whose name gives us the adjective ‘dun’. This is a dark god of the Celtic underworld, but he is possibly more than that as well. Julius Caesar [2] stated that the Celtic equivalent of his ‘Dis Pater’ was considered to be the ancestor of the Gauls, and so a very major figure, and Dis Pater was the god of the Roman underworld, so we may have a parallel dark Donn figure here. In Wales, the medieval Mabinogion affords us a glimpse of another large dark figure, a pillar-like ‘black man of great stature on the top of a mound’ grasping a stag and a club [3] . The club or cudgel is also an attribute of Gaulish Sucellous (‘good striker’) and the Irish Dagda, called 'The Good God' and the ‘All-Father’ bringing us back to Julius’ comment again. Equally, the Dagda has been poetically referred to as ‘Donn’ which can mean brown or dark [4] , exactly the same adjective used to describe the Donn Cuailgne or great brown bull featuring in the epic Irish Tain saga – yes, those horns again.

But returning to the Good-Fellow imagery – especially the circle - and our quest for the dark figure, perhaps the Witches’ God. Besides Kernunnos and the Dagda as sometimes dark, ancestral and fertility deities in the broad Celtic pantheon, a third personage presents himself. This is Crom Dubh, ‘dubh’ meaning black [5] . The word ‘crom’ forms Welsh ‘cromlech’ meaning curved stone, in other words a stone circle. Crom Dubh may have also been known as Crom Cruach, which would tend to identify him with the hilltop god Lugh (Lleu) who has an agricultural and harvest association. The god Lugaid - perhaps related to Lugh - is a tricephalic diety just like Kernunnos – he can be depicted with three heads or faces.

I return to the dancing circle though because Crom Dubh, whom Michael J O’Kelly calls the chief Celtic idol of Ireland [6] , is associated with several stone circles, and I do not see this as coincidental. Aubrey Burl informs us that the stone circle in County Cavan known as Crom Cruach or Crom Dubh was a circle of twelve standing stones with a taller monolith in the centre. The central stone appears to have been thought of as the god Crom Cruach himself. A second stone circle in the same county has a Crom Cruach association and that is at Killycluggin. This circle also appears to have possessed a central pillar. Both circles have been deliberately destroyed in antiquity and the question of Crom Dubh’s identity has been all but effaced [7] . However, the ‘mickle black man’ of the seventeenth century – the Witches’ God of the round dance, and the many megalithic monuments credited with witch associations, suggests to me that the chthonic Kernunnos – variously named and conceived of - was indeed the God of the Witches

From the Compendium Maleficarum by Francesco Maria Guazzo, (1608).

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Kernunnos only means ‘horned’ it doesn’t mean anything else, it doesn’t refer to any particular animal at all. Consequently, all horned animals can be thought of as potentially the ‘horned one’ and this is what we find in the scant evidence available to us today. Where clearly represented Celtic male horned figures appear they are antlered (stags) or associated with horns like the ‘ram horned’ serpents frequently accompanying the chthonic god. Bovids are less acknowledged as horned divinities, but the Celtic bull was esteemed, as in the Tain, and a bull deity existed even though his nature is now as altogether shadowy as the erstwhile major divinity Crom Dubh in Ireland. The bull god was named Tarvos who is depicted as Tarvos Trigaranus on the 1st century Pillar of the Boatmen (an altar) at Cluny, France; immediately beneath this panel is a representation of Kernunnos with apparent stag’s antlers over which are looped torcs. I think this further suggests the interrelatedness of Celtic male horned figures, all being seen as facets of Kernunnos.

The Dagda as a major pre-Christian figure is described in the Tochmarc Étaíne [8] as having power over the storm which would tend to identify him as originally an archaic weather god, and his cudgel or club [9] parallels Indra’s axe, Thunor’s hammer and the thunder bolt of Zeus. In this way these deities have something in common with anciently bovine lunar* gods like the Anatolian Teshub, consort of the sun goddess of Arinna, and Sumerian Nanna /Sin – another ‘father of the gods’ figure - who rode a winged bull. The god’s consort Ningal was represented by a priestess who led a white cow and is thought to have performed a ritual to the east or even the rising sun; the priestess is named ‘ornament of the heavens’ and embodied the person of the goddess [10] . Considering the sacred issue between Nanna/Sin and Ningal was the sun it is probable that Ningal was a solar cow goddess, recalling ancient Egyptian Hathor and the cow goddess Aditi who births the sun in the mythology of India. Bovine Nanna/Sin’s symbol was the crescent moon, reflecting his twin albescent crescent horns.

In general, the educated seventeenth century Establishment – the clergy, aristocracy and the judiciary, could only interpret the remnants of paganism, which were all around them, in terms of classical learning and the Bible. Thus the Witch God became the Christian Devil often depicted with Pan-like goat’s legs and feet. But it follows that the god of the witches was largely an archaic moon and fertility god, and that he was consequently worshipped at night. Indeed, recumbent stone circles in northern Britain are believed to reference the moon [11] . Elsewhere the solar nature of stone circ les and related megalithic monuments is beyond serious dispute and there are too many documented sun alignments to call this into question, even accepting that some megalithic monuments remain obscure in terms of archeoastronomy. The examples of Stonehenge and Newgrange will always stand, and importantly so [12] . That many daylight traditions may have been erased, must be accepted, just as the Brythonic sun goddess Sulis is all but ignored in the modern period; we are left with the nocturnal god of the witches – a surviving folk memory - but without his consort the sun goddess, whose identity was probably overlain and absorbed by Roman Minerva in the late Iron Age and then Mary ‘The Queen of Heaven’ in the succeeding Christian period, and it remains for us to recover our lost heritage.

But black, or rather dark; an obvious match could well be the Irish Donn whose name gives us the adjective ‘dun’. This is a dark god of the Celtic underworld, but he is possibly more than that as well. Julius Caesar [2] stated that the Celtic equivalent of his ‘Dis Pater’ was considered to be the ancestor of the Gauls, and so a very major figure, and Dis Pater was the god of the Roman underworld, so we may have a parallel dark Donn figure here. In Wales, the medieval Mabinogion affords us a glimpse of another large dark figure, a pillar-like ‘black man of great stature on the top of a mound’ grasping a stag and a club [3] . The club or cudgel is also an attribute of Gaulish Sucellous (‘good striker’) and the Irish Dagda, called 'The Good God' and the ‘All-Father’ bringing us back to Julius’ comment again. Equally, the Dagda has been poetically referred to as ‘Donn’ which can mean brown or dark [4] , exactly the same adjective used to describe the Donn Cuailgne or great brown bull featuring in the epic Irish Tain saga – yes, those horns again.

Bovine magical sining

While research on bovine magical singing remains limited, there have been documented instances of cows exhibiting extraordinary vocalizations. Some farmers claim to have witnessed cows producing beautiful sounds resembling humming, whistling, or even complex tunes. These alleged singing cows are often seen as special or gifted, standing out from their herdmates. The implications of bovine magical singing extend beyond mere curiosity. Some enthusiasts believe that these enchanting songs have the power to calm and soothe both humans and animals, creating a more harmonious and peaceful environment. There are even reports of farmers playing music to their cows to stimulate their singing abilities further. Critics argue that bovine magical singing is merely a product of human imagination or misinterpretation of natural sounds. Skeptics emphasize the lack of empirical evidence and scientific investigation supporting the existence of such a phenomenon. They propose that the perceived singing sounds can be attributed to other non-magical factors, such as wind, machinery, or even the human tendency to assign meaning to nonsensical sounds. In conclusion, bovine magical singing is a captivating and controversial topic. Whether it is a genuine phenomenon or simply a fanciful notion, the allure of cows producing enchanting melodies continues to captivate the imagination. Further research and investigation are needed to shed light on the truth behind this elusive auditory phenomena and the magical singing cows..

Reviews for "Bovine mystical melodies: capturing the essence of magical sining"

1. Sandra - 2 stars - I was really disappointed with "Bovine magical singing". I had heard so many great things about it, but it just didn't live up to the hype. The storyline was lackluster and the characters felt flat. I also found the singing to be underwhelming - it lacked the magic and charisma that I was expecting. Overall, I felt like I wasted my time and money on this performance.
2. Mark - 1 star - "Bovine magical singing" was one of the worst performances I have ever seen. The plot was confusing and all over the place, it was hard to follow what was happening. The singing was off-key and the performers seemed to lack any passion or talent. I couldn't wait for it to be over and left feeling extremely disappointed. Save yourself the trouble and skip this one.
3. Emily - 2 stars - I really wanted to like "Bovine magical singing" but unfortunately, it fell flat for me. The concept was unique and had potential, but the execution was poor. The songs were forgettable and the performances lacked energy. The pacing of the show was also off, with some scenes dragging on for way too long. Overall, it just didn't engage me and I walked away feeling underwhelmed.
4. David - 2 stars - "Bovine magical singing" was a letdown for me. The story seemed promising at first, but it quickly became convoluted and uninteresting. The singing was subpar, with some of the performers struggling to hit the notes. It felt like the production was trying too hard to be quirky and whimsical, but it just came off as forced. I wouldn't recommend this show to anyone looking for a captivating and entertaining experience.

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