petr-

Ancient Greek

πέτρα (pétra)

rock, stone

Modern scientific combining form

petr(o)-

used in coinages relating to rock or stone

ichor

Ancient Greek

ἰχώρ (ikhṓr)

the fluid that runs in the veins of the gods; also watery bodily fluids

Medieval Latin

ichor

borrowed learned form used in scholarly and medical writing

French

ichor

learned borrowing before entering English

Combined

petr(o)- + ichor

Coined as a scientific term in 1964 by Isabel Joy Bear and Richard G. Thomas for the smell released from dry earth when moistened

English

petrichor

introduced in a 1964 Nature article; now the standard term for the smell of rain on dry soil

Modern English

petrichor

Word Ancestry

petr-

Ancient Greek

πέτρα (pétra)

rock, stone

Modern scientific combining form

petr(o)-

used in coinages relating to rock or stone

ichor

Ancient Greek

ἰχώρ (ikhṓr)

the fluid that runs in the veins of the gods; also watery bodily fluids

Medieval Latin

ichor

borrowed learned form used in scholarly and medical writing

French

ichor

learned borrowing before entering English

Combined

petr(o)- + ichor

Coined as a scientific term in 1964 by Isabel Joy Bear and Richard G. Thomas for the smell released from dry earth when moistened

English

petrichor

introduced in a 1964 Nature article; now the standard term for the smell of rain on dry soil

Modern English

petrichor

“

This is a science-word with a surprisingly poetic costume. In 1964, Isabel Joy Bear and Richard G. Thomas needed a name for that first-rain smell rising off dry rock and dust, so they stitched together petr- for stone and ichor, the ghostly fluid that ran in the veins of the gods in Greek myth. That second half is deliciously odd: the same ancient word sits behind a rarefied mythic liquid and, by a circuitous route, this earthy smell after a summer drought breaks. It feels like a little collision between Olympus and a gravel road. The result is one of those perfect coinages that makes you think, yes, of course rain should have a name that sounds half geological, half divine.

The Story

“

This is a science-word with a surprisingly poetic costume. In 1964, Isabel Joy Bear and Richard G. Thomas needed a name for that first-rain smell rising off dry rock and dust, so they stitched together petr- for stone and ichor, the ghostly fluid that ran in the veins of the gods in Greek myth. That second half is deliciously odd: the same ancient word sits behind a rarefied mythic liquid and, by a circuitous route, this earthy smell after a summer drought breaks. It feels like a little collision between Olympus and a gravel road. The result is one of those perfect coinages that makes you think, yes, of course rain should have a name that sounds half geological, half divine.