They were visible by moonlight, dancing in the fields; and when their track was found in the dew,[3] a good harvest was expected.  Popular belief took the floating autumn cobwebs for the work of elves and fairies.  The spirits of mountain and wood were related to the water-spirits, nixies who sat combing their long hair in the sun, or stretched up lovely arms out of the water.  The elves belonged to the more spiritual side of Nature, the giants to the grosser.  Rocks and stones were the weapons of the giants; they removed mountains and hills, and boulders were pebbles shaken out of their shoes.

Among animals the horse was sacred to many deities, and gods and goddesses readily transformed themselves into birds.  Two ravens, Hugin and Munin, whose names signify thought and memory, were Odin’s constant companions.  The gift of prophecy was ascribed to the cuckoo, as its monotonous voice heralded the spring: 

  Kukuk vam haven, wo lange sail ik leven?

There were many legends of men and snakes who exchanged shapes, and whom it was unlucky to kill.[4]

The sun and moon, too, were familiar figures in legends.

Their movement across the sky was a flight from two pursuing wolves, of which one, the Fenris wolf, was fated one day to catch and devour the moon.  The German, like the Greek, dreaded nothing more than the eclipse of sun or moon, and connected it with the destruction of all things and the end of the world.  In the moon spots he saw a human form carrying a hare or a stick or an axe on his shoulder.

The Solstices impressed him most of all, with their almost constant day in summer, almost constant night in winter.  Sun, moon, and stars were the eyes of heaven; there was a pious custom to greet the stars before going to bed.  Still earlier, they were sparks of fire from Muspilli, to light the gods home.  Night, day, and the sun had their cars—­night and day with one horse, the sun with two:  sunrise brought sounds sweeter than the song of birds or strings; the rising sun, it was said, rings for joy, murmuring daybreak laughs.[5]

Day brought joy, night sorrow; the first was good and friendly, the second bad and hostile.  The birds greeted daytime and summer with songs of delight, but grieved in silence through night and winter:  the first swallow and stork were hailed as spring’s messengers.  May with greening woods led in beloved summer, frost and snow the winter.

So myth, fable, and legend were interlaced in confusion; who can separate the threads?

At any rate, the point of view which they indicate remained the common one even far into the Middle Ages, and shewed simple familiar intercourse with Nature.  Even legal formulae were full of pictures from Nature.  In the customary oath to render a contract binding, the promise is to hold, so it runs, ’so long as the sun shines and rivers flow, so long as the wind blows and birds sing, so far off as earth is