715: A’ Ghàidhlig airson ‘twilight’ 715: The Gaelic for 'twilight'

Have you ever seen the sunset in a tropical place? The sun sets quickly. And the light of the day doesn’t last long after sunset.

But consider Scotland in summer. The sun sets slowly. Light remains in the heavens for a long time before proper darkness comes.

It shouldn’t be a surprise, then, that there are many words and phrases in Gaelic connected to the lessening of the light in the sky around sunset.

To begin with – ciaradh. We speak of ciaradh an fheasgair. I reckon ciar is an old Celtic word. But we have another word for ‘dusk’ that comes from Scots. That is glòmadh.

Camhanach – or camhanaich – stands for twilight. We say camhanach an latha or camhanach na maidne for ‘morning twilight’, and camhanach na h-oidhche for ‘evening twilight’.

There is also the word breac-sholas, and breacarsaich. In Dwelly’s dictionary, there is the verb – breac-shoillsich ‘glimmer as the twilight’. Breac-shoillsich. Dwelly has eadar-shoillsich for ‘glimmer, as in twilight or dawn’. Eadar-shoillsich.

There is also the word iomall-soillse – iomall-soillse. And an fhionnairidh . We have a proverb: Bheir fear na mocheirigh buaidh air fear na fionnairidh ‘the early riser beats the evening watcher’. Bheir fear na mocheirigh buaidh air fear na fionnairidh. Get up early, friends!

There is also sgarthanaich for ‘dawn’ or ‘twilight’. Bha e an seo san sgarthanaich ‘he was here at dawn’.

For evening twilight, there are two other phrases. Liath-fheasgar – that’s meaningful, isn’t it? When the evening is turning grey. And iargal . Now, iargal is an interesting word. It’s based on iar – the west – where the sun sets. Iar at one time meant ‘behind’. Iargal originally meant ‘remote district’ – from iar and cùl – the behind place. From that, we get the word iargalta – inhospitable, churlish, surly. Isn’t it unusual that an ugly word like iargalta is connected to the sunset, that is sometimes so beautiful?

This week I’m in Gaick in Badenoch. There’s a strange place-name there. Near Loch an Dùin, there is a slope called Vinegar Hill. The Gaelic scholar, Alexander MacBain, wrote that the name of the slope in Gaelic is A’ Mhin-choiseachd ‘the easy walking’. ‘The English,’ he wrote, ‘is a fancy name founded on the Gaelic.’

Gaick had a bad reputation among the people of Badenoch and Atholl. There is a phrase: ʼS mòr a b’ fheàrr leam a bhith an Druim Uachdair na bhith ann an Gàdhaig nan creagan gruamach ‘ I’d much rather be in Drumochter than in Gaick of the gloomy crags ’. I’d much rather be in Drumochter than in Gaick of the gloomy crags ’.

There was a local curse – Dìol Bhaltair an Gàdhaig ort! That means ‘Walter’s fate in Gaick to you’. Dìol Bhaltair an Gàdhaig ort. It is connected to the terrible death that Walter Comyn, the Lord of Badenoch, suffered in the 13th Century.

His home was in Ruthven, near Kingussie. He was wanting there to be a proper road between Badenoch and Atholl. He was out looking at the route on the hills in 1258.

On the way out, Walter gave an order. When he returned [would return], every woman between the age of fifteen and thirty who was working the land in Ruthven must be stark-naked.

On the high country east of Loch an Dùin, there is a burn called Allt a’ Chaoirnich. There is famous place called Leum nam Fiann, where people would jump across the burn. Walter fell off his horse there. But his foot got caught in the stirrup. His horse must have been under a spell – or fear, and it made for Ruthven in a hurry. When he reached Ruthven, there was only Walter’s leg left – still in the stirrup. When some people went to look for the rest of his body, they found it. Two eagles were ripping it apart.