Ode to the Golden Birch

“Come” she whispers, as you wander among the turkey trails in soft spring snow.

“Press your body here, against mine.”

Feel her life blood rising, coursing, flowing, throbbing.

Her golden skin smooth and glowing- like the finest gown of silk.

Peeling away,  revealing her eternal patience, 

Giving of her body to moss and lichen.

Caress her this way- hand to skin, full body embrace.

Let her fill you with sensual pleasure- sweet sap running from branch to lip- a sweet kiss.

Shining goddess of the forest- glowing in the sun, sparkling in the moon glow.

Asking you to root in the muddy earth,

Asking you to open to the serpent kundalini

Rising upward- awakening

That sacred center of yearning and creation.

Sleeping in the forest- through the cold winter night- one eye open-

Beackoning you.  “Come, press your body here, against mine.”

The Healing Balsam of Poplar Buds

It was downright springy today.  The sun was shining, the snow melting off the roof in a steady wet stream, puddles and mud expanding even more.  We've had enough above freezing days in a row that I felt it was time to go out and get some poplar buds.  The few I had gathered before were oozing their resin into the oil very nicely, and so I slugged on the snowshoes to go have a look.

Now I'm used to gathering poplar buds in the southwest, sometime in early februrary, usually the sun is warm, reflecting back from the sandy wash where the cottonwood trees grow.  It gets downright hot at times, but it was always very meditative work.  Working slowly from branch to branch, gathering a bud here or there, taking care never to strip one branch of all its buds.  If lucky, finding freshly fallen branches on the ground after a windstorm.

But I've never collected the buds in the snow.  I mean, the sun was out.  And it was reflecting back at me from the blinding white snow.  It was so warm that I had to shed my hat, and unzip all my layers.  But then came the differences.  Snowshoeing through the maze of Balsam Poplar saplings, Sumac trees, spiny raspberry canes and tangling low branches just at snow level (because the snow is probably still three feet in spots.  I tripped more than once, got smacked in the face a few times, slid down an embankment, and generally had to pay close attention to where I was going.

Harvesting poplar buds is slow work.  2.5 hours yielded only half a quart jar of sticky, fragrant buds.  But oh god the smell- warm, sweet, pungent, vanilla,  honey, plus something all its own.  Ever so much more fragrant than the Fremont cottonwood buds I am most familiar with.  Little droplets of resin hardened on the large, brown buds.  Fortunately, this land is blessed with an abundance of sapling sized Poplars, just the right size for a short herbalist to gather from the lower branches.

I was thinking as I gathered, what is the lesson of poplar buds?  Certainly she teaches a measure of patience.  I mean- you have to wait until JUST the right moment, when the days are warm enough to melt the sticky resin inside the buds, but nights are cold enough to freeze it solid on the outside of the buds.  You might go check on them, every week for a month, or more.  And then, there's the slow business of collecting the juicy sticky buds, one by one, buds sticking to your hands, for hours on end, to result in a small harvest.   Surely we will learn patience from our poplar tree friends.

But also, attention to detail. Small details.  Watch where you step, check each bud, pick one by one, add to the jar, observe each branch, never pick too many from one spot, listen for the next tree to call, pick out the tree by paying attention to the grey, furrowed bark on older trees or grey mottled bark on the saplings, with reddish twigs where the growth is new.  All of these with no leaves to give it away, and picking it out among the whitish-yellow bark of its relative, aspen, and the bare, yet hairy branches of the sumach.   You look up, and notice how big and juicy the buds on the poplar are.  Nothing on any of the other trees compares.  Notice the aspen buds in some places are already opening catkins!  See the pairs of birchkins high on the white birches, and how they blend in with the large poplar buds.  Where does one branch end, and another start, which tree is which.

Attention to minute details isn't my forte in the normal world.  I have little patience for things like that. I like generalities, patterns, flow.  But it is different with the plants.  They ask of us more than we would give in other situations.  So I give my full attention to all the details of gathering poplar buds.  And sink into a state of peace- for a short while, not thinking about how much other shit I have to get done today, how sad and overwhelmed I feel by everything right now.  Just be here, now, with the trees, and the sun, and the snow shine, and the birdsong.  Following the trail of the turkey tracks through the trees.  I wonder if turkey was checking out the poplars too, or perhaps lunching on fallen sumac fruit clusters.  "And don't forget to pay attention," says the branch that smacks my cheek with a crack, "Slow Down" says the bramble that grasps at my clothes.

Finally, thirst and hunger urge me back to the house, trudging through the now melted snow crust, where I pour olive oil over the fragrant sticky buds in the jar to infuse for their pain relieving, antiinflammatory, and stimulating properties.  I'll go back another time or two, and gather a little bit more before the buds open into leaves and catkins, perhaps tincturing some as a nice stimulant expectorant and bitter digestive stimulant as well.  But for now, satisfied coming home smothered in the fragrance of poplar balsam.

Still sleeping

Winter is still in control. It's icy grip lays over the land, relinquishing nothing.  Not a trace of spruce tips- too early for that-  poplar buds frozen solid, with sticky resin inside that burns my tounge with its pungency and balsamic taste, it will be weeks before it is time to harvest that medicine- not even the hawthorn buds are swelling.





The ocean of snow, perfectly poised with precision- waves waiting to crash in on themselves when the skin kisses the vast expanse.  But for now- seeds lay sleeping far beneath the icy waves.

Hawthorn buds in waiting

I've been remiss in visiting my spiny hawthorn tree for the Tree Year in the fields below.  Crossing the ocean of snow is daunting.  She is still sleeping as well.  Wild cucumber and grape vines dangle lifelessly from her spiny arms, also waiting.  No sign of bird nor squirrel.  Just waves of snow 5 ft deep.


But the birches have birchkins...thats my word for catkins...because really they aren't cats, they are birches, and birchkins sounds more fun. 

birchkins

 

 It is supposed to storm again this weekend, but could end up being rain, so instead of working today like I had planned ( had a list going even) I went outside. The first time in months it feels like.  It really did take about 30 min to get dressed and get the snowshoes on and get the dog ready, but it was almost warm in the 25 degree sunshine.  But the snow doesn't think so, nor do the poplar buds. 

So here we are, all the plants, and all the herb folk still locked in winters icy reign- still sleeping, still hibernating, still awaiting the kiss of the sun prince to wake us from the 100 day slumber.

Hawthorn- Faery Guardian of the Heart

I'm participating in the Tree Year.  http://thetreeyear.wordpress.com/.  I'll be following a hawthorn tree in my fields this year.




Species:  Hawthorn, Whitethorn, Thorn, Haw Whiteblossom  (Crataegus oxycantha and other spp.)

Parts used: Fruits, leaf, flower

Energetic: cool, dry to neutral

Taste: sweet, sour, astringent

Actions: cardiotonic, nervine, astringent, nutritive, tonic, stimulant, relaxant, antioxidant

Botanical/Ecological description:

Hawthorn, in the rose family, is a small tree or shrub, that tends to grow in hedges, on the edges of roads or open fields.  It is rarely more than 12-15 ft tall, and the bark is rough and grey.  It has thorns anywhere from ½ inc to 2 inches long, which are dark colored.  In May it blooms with a profusion of white 5 petaled flowers that have a particular, rank or foetid smell.  Some people describe it as the smell of sex, and others, the smell of death.  Either way, they certainly aren’t sweet smelling!  Flowers ripen into small red drupes about ¼ in in diameter, with one large hard seed.  
It is often planted as a landscape tree in yards and along roadsides.  There are many species of hawthorns, on various continents.  Most of which are highly hybrized and interbreed freely.  It is often difficult to get it down to species.  There are some herbalists who have said only the official crataegus oxycantha is valuable medicine, and others who say that all species are somewhat medicinal.  I think the brighter, deeper colored red the fruits, the more antioxidant flavanoids are present, which will be medicinally active.  I can’t speak with authority on all species of hawthorns and medicinal value, as I have not tried very many!  But since they interbreed so readily, it seems unlikely to find the “official” hawthorn in a pure form, and I just do not think that it would lessen the medicinal value that much.  Many of the properties of the hawthorn are universal to rose family plants to some degree or another.

Symbolic/spiritual description:  The hawthorn is deeply associated with the Fae, Faery, the Good People.  It is said in Celtic lands where knowledge of the Fae is common, that to cut down an hawthorn tree will anger the Fae and cause bad luck.  Hawthorn blooms around May day and as such is associated with fertility and sex/lust, but on the flipside its rank smelling flowers and thorns and association with spirit worlds make Hawthorn a tree of “death” and transformation, and also of protection and caution.  Folklore of hawthorn is rich and deep.  In Western herbalism hawthorn is closely associated with the heart, energetically and physically, and many people use hawthorn to protect and soothe their emotional heart.  The beautiful fierce thorns coupled with soft delicate flowers speak to us of being tender and showing our inner beauty, our flower so to speak, but with strong defenses to guard the way.  You can’t really push past a hawthorn without getting caught up by the thorny branches.  But I do not find the hawthorn, with all its fierce thorns to be rough or unforgiving.  She teaches us awareness of where to place ourselves to avoid being hurt, of how to move carefully, and of the rewards of sweetness, transformation, and connection with powerful spiritual forces of the land and the Fae.  

If you are lucky enough to live near a hawthorn tree, be aware that the Fae may be near. Often times they will trick you, hide things or borrow things, in order to get your attention.  Try leaving small offerings for the Fae ones in or near your hawthorn tree.  They like sweets, shiny things, coins, honey, milk, cream or butter and tobacco.  I have found the Fae will generally return “lost’ or “borrowed” items when I ask and leave an offering, and will often help out in other ways in my life when appropriately gifted and asked.  But never break a promise to the Fae, or cut down your hawthorn!  The Fae ones are guardians of the land and the plants, I always leave an offering for them when harvesting plants.

Uses/Applications:  As stated above hawthorn is most famous for its use as a heart tonic, both the physical and emotional heart.   As a general rule of thumb hawthorn is considered a food herb, deeply nourishing, and considered safe. Its fruits are rich in bioflavanoids, vitamins and minerals that nourish the blood and the heart, and protect it from free radicals and oxidative damage, thus has been used traditionally as a tonic for weak hearts, hearts with congenital defects, and folks concerned about cardiovascular health in general.  Modern scientific study of hawthorn indicates it is useful in working with high blood pressure and cholesterol.  I have often used hawthorn in formulas for people working with these conditions, but it is vitally important to realize that these conditions are grossly misrepresented by the modern media and western medical science.  Cholesterol is just a NUMBER, and is not an accurate reading of cardiovascular  health or risk for heart attack.  Cholesterol is a vital nutrient, it builds hormones, immune system components, cell wells, and is involved in Vit D synthesis in the body.  We need cholesterol!  Cardiovascular disease is a real problem, but it is not always reflected by the single number of cholesterol that doctors like to use as scare tactic to get their patients on statin drugs.  Roots of cardiovascular diseases and high blood pressure are very closely tied with diet and nutrition, especially insulin resistance/syndrome X.  Much to the surprise of many eating a diet rich in animal fats and “cholesterol’ doesn’t impact your blood levels of cholesterol that significantly.  Cholesterol is produced by the liver on demand when your body is under stress or needs to produce sex hormones.  Breast feeding mothers can have cholesterol readings of over 300!  This is not  problematic.  The problems really start when someone is eating a very high carbohydrate, refined food, high sugar diet.  These diets promote insulin resistance- which increases inflammation, which is highly damaging to the cardiovascular system, increase blood pressure, increase triglycerides and increase risk for stroke and heart attack. 

That said, hawthorn is a beautiful ally to protect the heart in these sorts of conditions, but it is not a cure all.  They must be addressed with dietary and nutritional changes and modifying metabolic dysregulation with herbs and exersize.  I feel generally safe recommending and using hawthorn with people on other cardiovascular medications (excluding Coumadin or other blood thinners), as it is a food herb, but it is prudent and important for these folks to monitor their cardio health regularly.  Hawthorn may decrease the need for medications, and thus they should be monitored and adjusted as needed.   

Most people know of using the hawthorn fruit, but hawthorn leaf and flower is just as potent, and in some cases more potent than the fruits themselves.  Leaf and flower also lend themselves readily to tea/infusion, whereas fruits need to be cooked a long time to extract the medicinal benefits.  Many people also like to include hawthorn thorns in their medicine preparations to increase the protective benefits energetically.  This is easy to do when tincturing hawthorn.  I personally like to make a combined medicine with fruit, leaf and flower all in the same bottle.  You may tincture leaf and flower in the spring, and tincture fruit in the fall, and combine the two tinctures, or use dried and combine them in the same tincture jar.  Hawthorn leaf, flower and fruit elixir is devine!

It is important to remember that hawthorn, of the rose family, besides being rich in bioflavanoids and other nourishing nutrients, is very tonic and astringent.  It is generally appropriate for folks who lack tone in the cardiovascular system, or appear soft. (Not talking about fat here.)   It may often show up as a weak heart, either energetically or physically.  They may be pale, easily winded, or have poor circulation to the external parts of the body, because their tissues are flaccid and weak.  Astringent tonics can help to tighten, tone and strengthen the tissues to improve circulation. 

Hawthorn is a remarkable ally for what the Chinese call “disturbed shen.”  Shen is the word used for spirit, the spirit that resides in the heart, and makes up our mental/emotional/spiritual state of mind.  We understand this in the west as well, as we speak of heartbreak and heart sickness.  Physically our emotions may come from our minds, but we feel things deeply with our hearts.  It can result in a strong physical sensation in our heart area as well, an ache, palpitations, emptiness, or pressure.  When our spirit or shen is disturbed the signs are anxiety, restlessness, nightmares, dreaminess/fantasy, insomnia, heartsickness or heartache, fear, panic, trauma, or susto.  Hawthorn is a wonderful remedy in these cases.   Often in cases of childhood (or adult) asthma there is a realm of disturbed shen or heartsickness.  Hawthorn is extremely useful both to strengthen the physical action of the heart in asthmatics to improve oxygenation of the blood, and breath strength, and to soothe and calm the shen.  An asthma attack is clearly associated with disturbed shen or can result in such.  There is panic, fear, poor sleep, pressure, and often a disembodiment or tendency to get lost in ‘other worlds” or appear to be “taken by the Faerie.” And so, along with other botanicals, we use hawthorn in chronic cases of asthma.

This disturbed shen also is associated with heartache and heartbreak.  Hawthorn is an immense ally to anyone suffering from heartbreak, or a situation where their heart needs extra protection emotionally and spiritually.  Hawthorn is calming and nervine- not in the direct acute sense, but over time brings the heart and spirit back into alignment, improves circulation of blood, oxygen and chi, and restores balance and strength to the spirit and the heart.  Next time you are feeling heartache, add some hawthorn leaf and flower to your infusions (it does retain some of that strange rank smell, so I like to mix it with something extra sweet smelling, like linden, rose, or lavender.)  It soothes and comforts and heals the ache.  You can also sip a hawthorn berry cordial, or use small doses of the elixir or even hawthorn flower essence.

 

Harvesting:

Leaves and flowers:  Should be gathered in spring in full bloom.  Always  ask permission from the Fae before harvesting hawthorn!  Work very carefully around the thorns.  Listen closely to the way the hawthorn teaches you to be present to your body and your movements as you work. I like to gather flower clusters with leaves, snipping close to the branch with a sharp fingernail or clippers.  Always leave enough flowers on the tree for the bees, and reproduction.  Leaves may additionally be harvested once the tree is past flowering, but earlier in the season is preferable to late.  They become richer in tannins later in the season, and more astringent.  These may be dried by laying flat in a single layer in a basket or box or on newsprint. 

Fruits:  Likewise fruits must be harvested in fall when ripe.  They do tend to hang on the tree into winter, but traditional lore of the harvest states that anything not harvested by Samhain (Halloween) is to be left for the Fae.  I will harvest single fruits from clusters by hand, always leaving plenty for the birds and the Fae.  Fruits are more difficult to dry, and are prone to mold and rot if not fully dried.  In our moist climate it is difficult to air dry fruit, and I generally suggest a dehydrator, or drying in the oven with the light on.  I will often split the fruits in half to facilitate complete drying.  Otherwise tincture fresh.

Preparations & Dosage:

Fresh tincture is a marvelous way to work with hawthorn. 

1:2 fresh plant tincture in 50% alcohol, tincture different parts and mix together

Dry plant tincture is also lovely. 

1:5, 50% alcohol, blend fruits, flowers and leaves together

Either way, fresh or dried, you may turn it into an elixir with the addition of honey, and using sweet brandy if desired.

2- 30 drops 3x day.  Many herbalists have noted that small doses (8-10 drops) are just as or even more effective than large doses of hawthorn. 

Infusion/decoction:  16 oz/day.  Take in small frequent doses (4 oz ).

You may make jelly with hawthorn berries, infuse them in wine or add to kombucha

Resources:

A Modern Herbal- Maude Grieve

Kings American Dispensatory- Felter and Lloyd

The Physiomedical Dispensatory- William Cook

Personal Conversation  w/ Sean Donahue  http://greenmanramblings.blogspot.com/

Discovering Herbalism :Classes in Avon, Maine

January 29-30, February 19-20, March 12-13, April 23-24, May 14-15

Summer and Autumn Dates TBA

$100 - $150/month, payment plans and thoughtful barter proposals will gladly be considered.

Sean Donahue and Darcey Blue French are offering an opportunity for beginning and intermediate herbalists to develop or deepen their relationships with the healing plants of New England through a series of weekend intensives at our home in Avon, ME.

Through lectures and discussions, readings, meditations, ceremony, and direct experience, participants will learn about:

* Listening to and learning directly from the plants themselves

* The art and ethics of wildcrafting

* Making herbal medicines

* Understanding the energetics of herbal medicine and of the human body

* Nourishing the body, mind, and spirit

* Therapies for chronic and acute injury and disease

* Working with plants in ceremony and magic

* Plant identification and Materia Medica

* Establishing herb gardens

For more information or to register, e-mail herbalists@brighidswellherbs.com

Floor space and limited couch or bed space will be available for those traveling. 

Breakfast will be provided.  Lunch and dinner will be potluck.

What an herbalist does on vacation...

I've decided that after a really frustrating week spending too much time on the computer, I had to spend some time on vacation. Yah.
So what did I do with my stay at home vacation day #1.

Yummy breakfast- scrambled eggs w/ CSA peppers, squash, onions, garlic and italian sausages.
A nice long walk outside. Seems like these days I don't get enough time outside to collect, forage and Identify new plants. So made a point of going out for a little foraging mission and relaxed walk. The air was cool, sun behind the clouds, and sweet breeze kept the mosquitos at bay (for a while anyway). I found a beloved friend whom I've never met in person, Lobelia Inflata. Of course I forgot to bring my field guide along, but I knelt down after she caught my eye, and mysteriously knew who she was. Who said plants don't talk! Maybe it was the little balloon-like seed pods, or the blue flowers, but I instinctively knew it was lobelia, and took a tiny taste of the leaf. Sure enough acrid and biting as hell...tastes like my good friend lobelia. (Later I positively ID'd a specimen I brought home with Newcomb's Wildflower Guide).

Then further up the trail I found the place where the sun breaks through the trees and the goldenrod is blooming a golden song all about the meadow, and set to picking some of the sweet scenting flowering fronds for tincture and oil. As she led me on, she took me to where the St John's Wort patch I've been waiting on all summer is FINALLY in full bloom. I spent a good while picking St John's Wort tops as well before heading home. Nothing like sweet golden plant friends to cheer a weary and gloomy herbalists heart.

Back at home, a quick lunch of cold chicken and cucumbers, smothered in homemade mayonnaise, and I went to town tincturing up my harvest.

Then, as I've signed up for the Preserving the Bounty Challenge from Nourished Kitchen, I set to work on making a batch of Apple Beet Relish! YUM!

It's so beautiful ruby colored sweetness...spiced with ginger, cinnamon stick, clove and cardamom...I Can't wait to try it! Plus its much fun to squish grated beets and apples and salt together into a pink luscious juicy mess!

I guess that might sound like a lot of work, but its a purely relaxing day for me. Now for a supper of baked stuffed zuchinni and homemade marinara!

Summer Herbal Healing Classes in SW Conneticut!

For all my New England plant friends, I'm offering the following herbal classes at Great Hollow Wilderness School in New Fairfield, CT this summer! The first is next weekend, but there is still time to sign up! Please register with Great Hollow directly and spread the word to anyone interested in learning about herbal medicine. Perfect for beginning and intermediate students!



Wild Medicine Intensive ~ June 26 & June 27
During this weekend intensive learn to identify, harvest and turn our wild local medicinal plants into useful remedies to stock the pantry. Fee: $125; materials fee: $25

Talking with Trees ~ July 17
In this day-long exploration of the Tree Nation, learn about trees in their natural habitats; explore folklore and tree symbolism; medicinal uses of various parts of trees and harvesting and preparation of tree medicines.
Fee: $62.50; materials fee $15


Flower Essences ~ July 18
Spend a day among the flowering plants of New England. Learn the techniques for making your own Flower Essences, the energetic medicine of the flower. Fee: $62.50; materials fee $15

The Herbal Kitchen ~ July 24
Explore your pantry! Learn about the spices and ingredients you already have at home and how they can be used to make effective home remedies for your family. Fee: $62.50; materials fee $15

Intensive Medicinal Plant Walk – July 25
Explore our forests, fields, rivers and gardens and learn about the medicinal, edible and functional uses of New England native plants and common weeds. Fee: $62.50


Advanced cash only materials fee and $25 deposit is required. 10% discount for multiple classes.
For information call Great Hollow Wilderness School 203-746-5852
Great Hollow is a program of the Regional YMCA of Western CT


Thanks and please spread the word!

Make New Friends.....

It's been 4 months since I arrived in New England, spring has sprung and summer is almost upon us. I thought I would reflect a little bit on some of the new plant friends I have met in the time I've been here....as an herbalist transplanted from the hot, dry Southwest, the lush, moist greenery of New England has been a deep drink of sustenence. Of course, as the song goes...make new friends, but keep the old..one is silver and the other gold....my golden oldies from the Southwest are still some of my favorite plant allies that I wouldn't want to be without...precious anemone tuberosa, who I was able to get from generous herbalists in Tucson, Tagetes lemmonii (marigold) euphoric and antiiflamatory healer, and the always useful and fragrant larrea tridentata.

But in my efforts to remain a bioregional and wildcrafting herbalist, I will remain most closely dependent and allied with the plants of my new bioregion....
here are some of my new friends
Betula lenta (black birch) and betula allegehenensis (yellow birch) sweet stimulating, relaxing, tonic root beer tree


Hammemelis virginiana (witch hazel) astringent, refreshing tonic for skin and mucous tissues

Rosa multiflora (multiflowered rose) sweet, fragrant sister to rosa rugosa, and soothing to my rose deprived heart

panax trifolius (dwarf gingseng) magical little friend to american ginseng, who greeted me by suprise this spring


Lady's Slipper Orchid who broke my heart open and brought me to my knees with tears in the forest with her tender beauty and emanating love.

Plant Spirit Medicine Workshops

Please join me for an evening exploring the world of the plant spirits. Learn about communicating with and understanding the messages and guidance the plants have for us, and using the plants as spiritual healing allies. We will use various techniques to guide us into the ways of the plant spirits, including drum journey, plant essences, sensory experience, and plant oracles. No experience necessary, this circle is open to all, regardless of experience with plants, herbalism or shamanism. We will explore and experience the plants together. We will delve deeply in how to approach and use plant spirit medicine as a healing tool for yourself and loved ones, including how to prepare plant essences, work with plant spirits in journey work, medicine bags, oracles and more.

This workshop is offered by Spirit Guided Donation.

Oct 23 2009 @ 6:30pm

Nov 5 2009 @6:30 pm

Offered at the Healing Cave @

The Institute for the Shamanic Arts

Woman Kraft Art Center
388 S. Stone Ave
Tucson, AZ 85701

A midsummer's walk kissed with rain

The Summer wash- still dry, but full of life!

Wild cotton in bloom!
The blush of the first grapes!

Showy manzanita with new growth

Nice little tassels on the Silk Tassel

Bear Grass Bloom!

Stachys coccinea!
Coral Bean in bloom! Spectacular!

Sacred Datura beckons!

On wildcrafting- the Art of Reconnection

Last fall, I was sitting at a table at our local Green Fair, talking to people about the Sweet Medicine Center, and my work as an herbalist. I happened to be cracking acorns I had collected, roasted and planned to turn into delicious treats for the Open House at the Sweet Medicine Center. Most people approached with genuine interest and friendliness, eager to hear about what I planned to make with these treasures, and what the practition

ers and I had to offer. Many of the young native or Mexican children immediately recognized the nuts I was cracking, saying “bellotas” and asking what I planned to do with them, and tell me how their grandmothers would make bellota soup. At one point I was approached by a woman who began asking questions of me, which escalated into somewhat antagonistic jabs. When I began explaining about how I had spent hours collecting the acorns over several weeks, she began saying to me I had no right to be taking things from the forest, that I was stealing from the trees and the animals, and how could I be so selfish. I tried to explain my wildcrafting ethics to the woman, how I most assuredly collected my bounty with conscious awareness of the plants and animals around me. But this lady had it in her head otherwise, a

nd I gave up explaining.

It is difficult to explain the hours of time spent crouched in the warm sun, lying in the sand, gathering a single acorn at a time by hand, how I felt the trees alive around me, the small animals scurrying around me collecting their own stash of nuts for the cool season, to someone who doesn’t see it that way. I do understand that if everyone also decided to wildcraft, many plants would be stripped bare by over harvesting, and thus laws are enacted to prevent people from “taking” from the earth.

While I understand the idea behind the protection of natural resources, I also feel deeply how these types of ideas and laws have created a disconnect between humans, the earth, and the resources and gifts that Gaia has graciously bestowed. Humans have become increasingly alienated from the natural world, because we no longer understand, in our bones, and our daily sustenance how deeply we are dependent on the earth. Food comes from grocery stores, or if we are fortunate, local organic farms and ranchers, but very few people come in contact with the actual procurement and production of the food that passes through their mouth. Naturally, gardening in the home becomes a way for us to reconnect with our food and the earth, but it is lacking something that the wild foods and animals can teach us, ju

st by their presence, and making ourselves open to it.

As an herbalist I have primarily been a wildcrafter. I do grow some of my medicinal herbs and much of my food in my garden, but there has always been something in the call of the wild places that speaks to my wildest heart. I go to the plants for teaching, for healing, and for medicine. Many people ask why I go to so much effort to wildcraft much of my medicine and a significant portion of food, when it could easily be grown in a garden? I respond, the wild things have a special teaching for us, in this age of disconnect and alienation from nature, that we are still so dependent upon.

The wild plants I go to for medicine and food are tough creatures, they endure the harshest extremes of weather, water scarcity, bugs, fire, and climate change, and yet they persist. They are rich and resilient in the face of challenge. Those wild plants have a strength from which we can both learn from and benefit from medicinally or nutritionally. Plants grown in wild soils that are rich in nutrients are almost always more nutritionally dense than their cultivated counterparts grown in depleted agricultural soils, they endure the extremes and develop compounds that are strong and medicinal in order to resist such challenges. And that is just the beginning of the benefits of using wild plants for food and medicine, but there is more.

Contrary to that woman’s belief about harvesting from the wild, wildcrafting both food and medicine brings me in closer contact with the ever changing environment on which I live and depend, it fosters an intimacy with both the creatures in the environment and the needs of that environment. My regular forays to certain spots through all the seasons teaches me about the cycles which our landscape moves through, I become aware of small changes that might go unnoticed by untrained eyes, but can mean significant environmental changes. I notice when a particular plant population is growing, expanding and becoming ever healthier, or likewise, when a plant population is retreating, getting smaller or moving. In noting these changes I can act responsibly as an herbalist, wildcrafter and inhabitant of the land, by sowing seeds, refraining from harvesting, or encouraging growth and expansion. I notice the years in which little rain fell, and familiar plants are sparse or not present at all. I have seen chaparral bushes brown and drop leaves, and prickly pear turn red and shrivel in response to a particularly long winter drought, and I have seen washes flood in the overabundance of summer rain, ripping out trees by the roots, exposing new rocks and covering over embankments with fresh silt and sand, thus changing the landscape permanently, and influencing the subsequent growth of plants in that area. When I am wildcrafting I notice which animals are also harvesting from the plants, and work in concert, always aware enough to leave more than plenty for the other inhabitants of the landscape, including the soils which take in discarded leaf litter and plant stalks and transform it into mineral rich humus for the next seasons growth of plants. I very rarely wildcraft for the sake of taking plants home solely for medicine or food. I wildcraft for the sake of experiencing the plants in their wild home, for the sake of becoming intimate with the changing moods and needs of my landscape, for the sake of reconnecting myself deeply with the earth, which provides everything I am dependent on, and for the sake of falling in love each day with the stark beauty of this land of extremes and contrasts; of drought and fire, of rain and rushing waters, of tropical vines and giant cactus, of riparian bosques and mountain pine forests.

February Herb Walk !

Today was the first herb and plant walk of the year! The morning was fresh and cool, with a promise of sunny warmth, typical of the late February spring in southern Arizona. 5 lovely ladies, herbalists, body care queens, and nature enthusiasts joined me for a walk in the Tanque Verde Wash. The washes around the Tucson area are a strange mixture of desert plants, riparian trees, weeds that travel on horseback and in the water which periodically runs in the sandy wash.
Today, the wash was dry as a bone, but the Cottonwoods (populus fremontii) were covered in both male and female catkins, and the round pods which burst open in a few short weeks and shed mountains of white, fluffy cottony seed. Some of the trees were even far enough along to be bearing small, resinous and delicate tender leaves. We tasted the leaves and buds to experience the stimulating, spicy, resin medicine that the tree gives, and discussed the pros and cons of using the various parts of the plant for medicine ( bud, leaf, bark). Along with the newly leafing out cottonwoods, the Mexican Elders are covered in green, rank leaves. A few more weeeks yet before the Elders put on the flowers so treasured for fevers and flus, but we all enjoyed seeing the new growth.
Spring is mustard time in the southwest and we saw at least 3 varieties of mustard, (London Rocket, Black Mustard, Bladderpod). The oats are green and growing and we enjoyed chewing on the spring green, sweet oat stems in the shade of a cottonwood. In a few more weeks the oats will put out their milky seeds which are so remarkable for the nervous system and adrenals.
We were even lucky enough to see a real dandelion, complete with flowers, which in the desert is a rare treat, dandelions really aren't that common in these parts, mostly due to the lack of watered lawns.
We discussed the finer details of making pain relieving linaments with plants such as cottonwood, tobacco, using both oils and tinctures of various combinations of plants, and the making of delectable treats like clover pesto, and london rocket salad.

We were ecstatically suprised to find the native Chia sage (salvia columbularie) starting to flower as well! By the end of the morning the sun was shining down in full desert force, and forced us into the shade and back to the cars. It was a beautiful day of sharing the medicine and joy of the plants in the desert, and so worth braving the heat for! I hope to see you on the next walk in March, when the flowers will REALLY be out in full glory!

Register for the herb walk in March by e mail (blueturtlebotanicals@gmail.com). 25$ per person.

Spring is coming....

Though it really hasn't felt like it for the last month and a half with freezing temperatures, frosty mornings and a heavy heart, spring is now just around the corner. It was a beautiful warm day, though I know in other places around the country people are struggling to stay warm. I couldn't resist the urge to head out to the washes to check on the progress of the plants. Some of the first spring plants I'll be collecting live in the washes which periodically fill with water and run over the roads and feed the lush riparian growth in and around them with life sustaining water. First among those is usually the cottonwood buds. Our local populus fremontii starts to swell with buds in late January and early Februrary. I walked along under the many tall cottonwoods, checking lower branches for resinous buds, and found that most of the trees were not quite ready, with only terminal buds (but gooey and resinous indeed.) There were a few trees with giant swelling buds covered in a thick, sticky and fragrant resin which works so wonderfully as an oil for painful, inflammed joints, muscles, burns and more. The small portion I did gather today went straight into sesame oil and onto the pilot light of the stove to warm. I'll add to it as I gather more buds in the next few weeks. I never seem to make enough of this oil, as I run out every year just before budding time. It goes into almost any concoction in which a mild pain reliever is indicated and works its magic every time.

Interesting to note that the cottonwoods in this particular area seem to be quite heavy with mistletoe. Hard to see when the trees are fully leafed out, it was strikingly obvious to see the bright green leafy mistletoe against the white empty branches of the cottonwoods.




Along the same washes grow the mexican elders (sambucus mexicana) which flower in April and fruit in June. But the elder trees were already leafing out today in the warm sun and my excitement for the coming season grows. I'll be back in early April to harvest the elder flowers, and another favorite plant, the milky oat seeds. There was no trace of the oats that I know grow in this wash yet, but they'll make their appearence soon.

Last seasons cudweed flowers and stalks were brown and crispy and there wasn't any sign of new growth under the blanket of dry, crunchy cottonwood leaves, yet.
But the sun is warm, we've had several good rain and snow storms this winter, and I'm looking forward to a very fruitful season, in the meantime I still must be patient with nature and myself as the changes and transitions around me continue to unfold...

Harvest time in the Sky Islands

It's harvest time in the desert! The prickly pear fruits are ruby wine color and beaconing from their spiky perches, the mesquite pods are golden and dry, hanging from the trees and falling to the ground.
I made my way up into the high mountains for the first time since moving back to Arizona, to scope out a trail for my herb walk next weekend. It's harvest time up there too! The late summer and fall flowers are in full bloom, fruits are ripening, and I came home with bagfuls of medicinal and edible plants today!

Look what I found first off this morning!



My first delight of the day, when I stopped to harvest the blooming Evening Primroses and more grape leaves for brining, was an amazing find of a lone Peach tree! I have been to this very spot at least 5 or 6 times this season, and many countless times in years past, and have never once noticed this tree. It never ceases to delight me how the plants choose when, where and to whom to reveal themselves...I could hardly believe my eyes, as I was wandering amongst the primroses, the flowering Monarda Pectinata, grape leaves, walnut trees and the creek full of water, "Is that a peach tree? It can't be, but.." I wandered over and crushed a handful of leaves to my nose. Sure nough! It's a peachy tree! There were no fruits to be had, but plenty of fragrant leaves!

This must have sprouted from a picnicker's peach pit tossed out years ago...I can't imagine how else it might have arrived at this unlikely place. But truly an exciting moment, as I'm coming to love the peach leaf medicine quite a lot these days.

The grapes are starting to ripen on the vines too, and in a few weeks I'll be back there for the grapes, and the flowering Lemmon's Marigold , which is just starting to bud out.

Further up the mountain, I visited a favorite trail where I've spent many a summer afternoon, napping underneath the ponderosa pines, grieving, celebrating, loving and being. I know the trail well, and was pleased to find all of the plant friends I expected, including raspberry, strawberry, goldenrod, yarrow, violets and valerian (among MANY others). Even the elder trees have proliferated since I had last visited and I saw several new baby elders downhill from the larger ones. I got quite a lot of elderberries too, perfectly ripe, which I've turned into Elderberry Elixir.

I went specifically looking for the yarrow, as I've totally run out of dried yarrow, though I'm well stocked on tincture and oil. The goldenrod was in full bloom interspersed with the yarrow, and I got some of that as well to make infused goldenrod oil for sore muscles and sprains.

Shortly after the above picture was taken, I packed up my things, sang a song of gratitude to the plants and the earth, and was promptly gifted with a downpour. I had noticed a grey cloud sort of hanging over the mountain tops, but didn't think much of it. Until it started to rain on me, in my skimpy cotton tank top. I should have known better, in early September we are still under the influence of the monsoon rains, and I hardly ever go out in the summer without a raincoat, or something.
There I was, huddling under the driest spot under a pine tree I could find, watching as the rain came down in torrents, followed by small hail. Silly me! I waited awhile thinking, it can't rain for too long, these monsoons come and go quickly, but after 30 min of waiting, with the rain only getting worse, I decided I was better off walking back up the trail, and getting wet, yet staying warm, than staying put and shivering under the tree. I was maybe a mile and half away from the trailhead, and didn't feel in real danger of hypothermia, as long as I was moving and getting closer to the car, but I was cold, and wet. After a while the rain let up a bit, and dallied to pick some violets and raspberry leaf, but when a very LOUD crack of thunder reverberated around the mountains, I picked up the pace again, and none to soon as the rain began to fall harder.

But alas, as our storms do, it petered out just about the time I got back to the car, and I passed three or four people just venturing out after the rainstorm, my pack full of plant goodness to last the whole year through!

More summer plant love

Here's a beautiful Garrya (Silk Tassel) in flower. I've never seen one actually flowering before! What a treat. Must be all the rain we've been getting!









And the grapes, oh the grapes! Nowhere near ripe, and I'll probably be away in NM when they are ripe, so the birds will get these, but the vines are heavy with fruit this year! Beautiful blessing of summer moisture!



Here's a sweet heaven scented agave flower stalk that beckoned from afar and asked me to hike up a steep hill to visit.












A flowering wild geranium!

And flowering dogbane! Apocynum spp.