A New Year’s Day nature walk through Inwood Hill Park came to a hushed halt last week when participants happened upon a tongue nailed to a red oak tree. Chalk their sudden silence up to the spell cast by an African Diaspora ritual intended to silence damaging rumors or court testimony.

The Yoruba people of West Africa safeguarded and transmitted their spiritual beliefs in the Americas despite slavery, adapting to new conditions and melding with Christianity. The best-known names for this transplanted tradition (though believers often prefer different terms) include Santería, Umbanda, Voodoo, and Candomblé. Remnants of Yoruba rituals, including animal remains, have over the last few decades become an increasingly common sight in New York City’s parks due to immigration and a cultural revival.

A nailed animal tongue, in the Inwood case likely from a calf, can be used to “instruct the spirits to stop someone from gossiping, from spreading harmful rumors or the like...or to stop a witness from testifying in court,” said Elizabeth McAlister, PhD, a professor of religion at Wesleyan University who’s written books about the African Diaspora spirituality. “It’s a defensive sort of prayer.” Normally photographs, hand-written notes, or other paraphernalia would be found with the tongue, but none was observed by David Burg, president of the urban habitat conservation group WildMetro, who co-led the walk.

“I have seen tongues nailed to trees twice before in recent years," he said. "Once there were some 40-plus tongues nailed to trees in the southern part of Pelham Bay Park.”

Separate reports of tongues nailed to trees have come from Prospect Park (15 at once) and states including Florida, Texas, and California. Though such a macabre landscape might be disturbing, “In each case, the tongue is not there as a threat, or a sign of something to fear, but rather as a tangible instruction or admonishment to the spirits about the work they are being asked to do,” McAlister explained. “In theory, the person who is gossiping, for example, need not come across the tongue or even know it’s there, in order for the ritual prayer to take effect.”

It's also possible that the tongues might be the work of uninformed copycats or a blending of practices, according to Michelle Gonzalez Maldonado, Ph.D., associate professor of religious studies at the University of Miami, who specializes in Latin religious life. “It could be a hybrid group that also incorporates elements of the Congolese religion Palo Monte. It may also be an individual who has read about these religions online and is dabbling,” she said.

Rev. Miguel A. De La Torre, PhD, agrees, noting that the simultaneous use of a great number of tongues is a departure. “Usually you’d see multiple names on little papers pinned to a single tongue, “ said De La Torre, adding in jest that “Forty tongues is overkill in my opinion. Maybe it’s for a grand jury.” De La Torre is a professor of social ethics and Latino Studies at the Iliff School of Theology in Denver, CO. He was raised in Jackson Heights, Queens, by parents who were a Santeria priest and priestess.

Tongues aren't the only animal part found in the city's parks. Goat heads are uncovered in Prospect Park on a semi-regular basis, in addition to the occasional plate of rooster heads. All are presumably tied to rituals of African Traditional Religions.

The tongues are almost certainly store-bought, said De La Torre, but “If you really want to have an impact, then animal sacrifice would be the way to go.” Blood, because it sustains life, contains the highest content of the spiritual force called àṣẹ (or ashé in Latino culture). The need for àṣẹ, and not merely privacy, explains the locations of these rituals. “Seeds, fruits, and roots all have ashé, so the forest is a very powerful place,” he said.

The forest is also home to strong Òrìṣàs (alternatively Orishas, or Orichás/Orixás in Latin America), intercedent aspects of the ultimate divinity, Olódùmarè. Òrìṣàs are associated with particular species of African trees, so believers in the Americas found new arboreal linkages. Inwood Hill Park is home to Manhattan’s last natural forest and some of its tallest trees. In addition to red oaks, the park is noted for giant tulip trees, eastern hemlock, and an understory of dogwood, witchhazel, spicebush, and striking fungi.

Another source of support in Yoruba-derived faiths is one’s ancestors. Africans torn from home by the slave trade turned to the indigenous peoples of the Americas as adoptive ancestors, explained De La Torre. Inwood Hill Park is known for its Lenape artifacts, especially in its “Indian Caves.”

Still, in a city with a multitude of faiths and few natural areas, the ritual remnants can strike conservationists as intrusive. “Even though I do find some things awesomely cool—like voodoo right here in the city, and I recently came across a knight romping through the Pelham woods in full armor—I don’t believe natural areas of parks can be everything to everybody. I worry there’s a cumulative impact,” Burg said. He blames the NYC Department of Parks and Recreation for investing too much in headline-grabbing capital projects instead of maintenance and enforcement. But he admits that when he encountered the nailed tongues in Pelham Bay Park, rangers were already on the scene.

Philip Abramson, a spokesperson for the Parks Department, said the agency does not keep data on the number of animal parts discovered in city parks. "While we cannot confirm any discovery in Inwood Hill Park, other incidents of animal parts found in our parks are rare," he said in an email. "We do not keep records or investigate their origins. Any New Yorker who finds such parts should notify us by calling 311 so they may be disposed of."

Erik Baard is a freelance journalist and NYC native who was designated "The Greenest New Yorker" for his urban environmental projects.