Poland has an interesting idea when it comes to Easter traditions. On the days after Easter, they celebrate Smigus-Dyngus, also known as Dyngus Day or "Wet Monday." This holiday is more casually regarded as national water fight day.

Tradition has it that boys throw water over girls on the Monday after Easter, and then girls reciprocate on Tuesday. Though it seems a bit intense (and bordering on harassment), girls were reportedly also soaked in their beds, and then dragged to the river for another drenching. This wetting could happen multiple times during the day. Buckets, sprinklers or water guns now fill the role of the watering agents.

This soaking was hoped to encourage a good spring rainfall, which is considered quite a positive omen. Girls could bribe their pursuers and remain dry by giving them painted eggs thought to ensure a good harvest. Nowadays both genders simply soak each other, with the dousing symbolic of rebirth and baptism.

Beyond the water play, there was also plant play during Smigus-Dyngus. Pussy willows were employed as whipping sticks after priests had blessed them. These pussy willows were thought to be sacred charms that prevented lightning strikes, protected animals and ensured a bountiful harvest of honey. Replacing the palms of Palm Sunday, pussy willows assured good fortune, and supposedly swallowing three fuzzy buds assured a healthy year.

The timing of pussy willows’s budding may have contributed to their use in the holiday fun and games. Pussy willow blooms burst forth around Easter (even though Easter itself moves around on the calendar), allowing for the above rituals, and they are now boasting their woolly buds and small flowering catkins. One of the spring’s early flowers, pussy willows capture extra attention in our near-leafless landscape.

Thoreau describes willows better than most could. In his journals, he explains: “The fertile catkins of the willow are those green caterpillar-like ones, commonly an inch or more in length, which develop themselves rapidly after the sterile yellow ones are fallen or effete. A single catkin consists of from twenty-five to one hundred little pods, more or less ovate and beaked, each of which is closely packed with cotton, in which are numerous seeds so small that they can scarcely be discerned by ordinary eyes. At maturity the pod opens its beaks, each half curving backwards, and releases its downy contents like the milkweed. Except for size, it is much as if you had a hundred milkweed pods arranged cylindrically around a pole.”

Most of us don’t need Thoreau’s description for identification purposes and know better than to beat our betrothed with those pussy willows branches. However, not everyone knows willow’s incredible value to both people and wildlife.

Entomologist, author, and native plant enthusiast Douglas Tallamy lists willows as second only to oaks in value as host trees for butterflies and moths. Consider that they provide nectar for overwintering mourning cloak butterflies, act as larval hosts for the former and for viceroy butterflies, and provide for hairstreaks and sphinx moths. Their role as early nourishment for bees and insects is also a bonus.   Deer can eat their twigs, grouse and squirrels can munch on willow buds and hares can feast on bark.

Birds are not left out, either. American botanist and author Donald Culross Peattie explains: “It is a poor Pussy Willow that does not have a song sparrow perched in it at this season, his throat vibrating with the tumbled, jingling notes of his early love song.” 

Catbirds, yellow warblers, flycatchers and goldfinches will also happily nest in its branches, and red-winged blackbirds are clearly happy to have a perch on this plant, which is often too thin to support ground-based predators.

For wildlife lovers, that is a lot to adore about willows. And for gardeners, there is something else. Willow can be used as a natural root hormone, inducing other plants to produce roots in just a bit of water. Pussy willows are also perfect for decorating, as those picked during their gray fuzzy stage will stay that way for weeks. Hence, in a quiet way, they have become a symbol of springtime in homes and cottages throughout the island, where the wind in the willows is becoming increasingly warm and welcoming.

Suzan Bellincampi is director of the Felix Neck Wildlife Sanctuary in Edgartown, and author of Martha’s Vineyard: A Field Guide to Island Nature.