Nothing symbolises our midwinter feast better than holly. Our familiar native holly, Ilex aquifolium, one of between 500 and 600 species world-wide, grows widely throughout Western and Central Europe, from southern Norway to Greece.

Holly prefers mild and damp climates and has started reacting to the increasing temperature caused by climate change. It’s gradually spreading further north in coastal parts of Norway and east in Germany. And as Greece becomes hotter and drier, holly is retreating to higher, mountainous areas.

This fine old tree has taken centre stage in our midwinter celebrations for millenia. The shiny green leaves have been linked to hope and renewal and blood-coloured berries represented fertility In Northern European culture, holly even replaced the oak as king of the woods during the winter months.

Everyone had a love-hate relationship with holly. On the one hand, it was associated with the dark forces of winter, but was also seen as a protective bulwark against evil spirits.

In Scotland, this unapproachably prickly plant came to represent an ancient hag who ruled the roost in winter. But as days lengthened in spring, this Cailleach was forced to face defeat and throw her magic rod or hammer under a holly tree till winter returned the following year.

On the other hand, at their feast of Saturnalia, the Romans reckoned a lavish collection of holly would bring good luck. Evil spirits wouldn’t dare enter a house with holly branches round doors and windows as they might be enmeshed in the prickles. Old habits die hard, of course. I wonder how many of us feel safer once we’ve got the holly wreaths up?

If, like my wife Jane, you make your own wreaths, you’ll need to cut from a free-standing tree. Hedges are best trimmed in late summer so you’ll have snipped off most developing berries. This obviously also applies if you train one of the small leafed cultivars for topiary.

But hedges have a lot going for them. They offer welcome shelter for wildlife throughout the year and the leaves can be a useful food source for many insects.

A thick holly hedge also absorbs fumes from passing cars and slightly deadens noise. It lets wind pass through gently rather than creating the wind tunnel you get with a wall.

And rest assured, the witches might steer clear of your house as they wouldn’t dare run along the hedge. You never know.

Holly berries are an excellent source of food. The frost will have softened them, making it easier for thrushes, blackbirds and wood mice to eat without side effects, even if they’re still toxic to us. So if you want any berries for decoration, collect them early if there are still any left. Bring into a cool shed and store in a bucket of water to keep fresh.

When collecting, remember to cut whole twigs back to main stems to let the tree spread nicely rather than forming unsightly little thickets where you’ve been working. This way you’re thinning branches and allowing the remainder to elegantly fill the space.

We use holly very differently to our predecessors. Freshly cut timber burns fiercely so made excellent firewood. The white, fine-grained hardwood was even dyed black and used as an alternative to ebony for piano keys. It was used for making mathematical instruments and light machinery components. At least we still use this remarkable wood for decorative carving.

Holly served as winter fodder crop for sheep. Once harvested, it was sometimes milled to make it more palatable to them. And since the young leaves are very tender, you’ll rarely find them at grazing level.

Plant of the week

Ivy, Hedera helix ‘Minor Marmorata’. It doubles as ground cover and a modest climber. The young leaves emerge almost white, becoming increasingly marbled with green as they age providing a range of effects for decoration.