Spiced Roots: Autumn Updates & Harvest Celebrations
As the light shifts from the brilliance of high Summer to the shadow-touched gold of Autumn, and the last flood of color bursts from the wildflowers, I find myself rearranging my herb shelves. Nutmeg, Ginger, and Cinnamon get pulled to the forefront, along with the rooty earthiness of Burdock, Elecampane, roasted Chicory, Astragalus, and Codonopsis. I sort through the clay and glass containers filled with dried mushrooms for medicine and food (often at the same time), stopping to sniff their wild musk in between other tasks. Dandelion-leek miso and jars of seaweed are pulled out for easy access, and the tea kettles and soup pots are all brought out and reintroduced to the woodstove. In the kitchen, Loba’s been turning mountains of fresh Peaches into jam, sauce,...
A Desert Fairy Tale: The Ringtail Woman
“The hills call in a tongue I cannot speak, a constant murmuring, calling the rain from my dry bones, and syllables from the marrow… Twined together, root to root, sap seeping from flesh, the Wood Wife plants me in the soil and give me language once again.” -Terri Windling, The Wood Wife Very often, we may unconsciously place fairy tales in the in the green rolling hills of Ireland or the dark forests of Germany, but in truth, stories of magic spring from every land. Nowhere is this more true than the deserts and mountains of the enchanted Southwest. The vibrant blend of cultures here can create tales of surprising power and beauty. When I first came to the Southwest over a decade ago, and met the Palo Verde, Ocotillo, and Saguaro of the...
Spine Songs: Spring Comes to the Northern Chihuahuan Desert
That girl, she was a Red Rock woman. Soft as pine needles and strong as the stone -Terri Windling, Red Rock Many mornings, when I wake up gazing at the brilliant lapis of the New Mexico sky, and the dusky rose of the canyon’s cliffs, I entirely forget how I managed live anywhere else. The volcanic rock hums underneath my bare feet and the wild winds tangle my hair with errant bits of Juniper bark and Evergreen Oak leaves. There’s no doubt that not everyone feels at home in this arid, stark environment where the grasses dance golden for a good part of the year, and most anything you touch is likely to have thorns or claws attached to it. It’s hard to explain to people unaccustomed to or uncalled by the Southwest, how the spines sing to me, how the beauty is...
Plant Devotions in Smoke: Bioregional Plant Incense
~This post was written for the Smoke Theme of the Wild Things Roundup~ Finished block of incense made with Piñon resin, Juniper berries, Red Cedar heartwood, Douglas Fir needles, Rose petals, and much more. The rising smoke of fragrant plants has long been considered the food of gods and ancestors by humankind. Throughout the centuries, it has retained the connotation of sacred space, magic, and the sensual. Even now, just the description of white smoke rising from an ornate censer can evoke images of ancient temples and forgotten rites. This is no surprise given the power of the olfactory system over memory, dream, and desire. For the modern American human, however, the word incense may be more likely to bring to mind the suffocating stench of chemical...
Everyday Acts of Devotion
“Give me, for my life, all lives, give me all the pain of everyone, I’m going to turn it into hope. Give me all the joys, even the most secret, because otherwise how will these things be known? I have to tell them, give me the labors of everyday, for that’s what I sing” -Pablo Neruda Herbalism is a curious field, a mishmash of healthcare, botany, plant obsession, counseling, nutrition, ecology, and countless other labels that cross back and forth over the indeterminate borders of what it means to be an herbalist. Listening to students, friends, teachers, and countless practitioners I hear many impassioned definitions and statements about what it means to be an herbalist. Impassioned to the point of stirring up unease, argument, and the drawing of...
Evergreens and The Longest Night: A Solstice Celebration in Pictures
Last night while I laid back in our old wood-fired clawfoot tub and felt the giant snowflakes falling on my face in the dark I was entirely consumed by how beautiful and precious these long nights and cold air are to me. All around me in the evergreen forests of my home, the snow fell silently and the ice grew a little further over the surface of the river that runs through the center of the canyon. While I’ve always enjoyed the quiet and beauty of Winter, it seems to me that this particular cold season is the most pleasurable and lovely I’ve ever experienced. Part of this is no doubt simply due to how much I needed the slowing down that this time of the year brings for our family. Another aspect is my deepening relationship with the special medicine...
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