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.
It's here! It's the blog party! Yipee! We have an amazing collection of writings on all sorts of weedy wonders that herbalists near and far love dearly. Here's the breakdown!
Last fall, I was sitting at a table at our local Green Fair, talking to people about the SweetMedicineCenter, 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 SweetMedicineCenter.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.
Join me for the next Medicinal and Edible Plant Walk. Now that summer is upon us, we'll head up into the mountains for a bit of relief from the heat, and enjoy the shade of the trees. Learn the medicinal, edible and functional uses of our native plants, and the prolific naturalized weeds. Experience the plants first hand in their environment: touch, smell, taste, see and even learn to hear what the plants have to offer us. This will be a easy to moderate walk, with no strenuous hiking. The ground is uneven, so please be prepared with good walking shoes. Please bring plenty of water, food, sun and weather protection, notebook, camera and any other note taking tools you would like to use to record our journey with the plants.
We will meet @ the parking lot of the Eclectic Cafe @ Sabino Canyon Road and Tanque Verde Road at 8 am sharp for carpooling. Please bring your Catalina Mountains Pass if you have one and are willing to be a driver. RSVP to Darcey @ blueturtlebotanicals@gmail
Hi Plant Lovers, It's that time again! How about one more foray into the low desert washes to check out the spring blooms, before the heat burns! This time, a special inclusion in honor of May Day, and spring in the desert, we will spend a good chunk of time on this herb walk learning how to make flower essences from the flowers all around us in the desert. Everyone will take home a bottles of mother essence of flower essences we will make during the walk. Please come prepared for warm weather, sunshine and quiet time with the flowers. Good shoes, water and food are a must. Note pad, cameras, are nice too. We will be walking in a sandy wash. No rocks, but there are downed trees and branches.
Please bring two 1 oz bottles for your flower essences.
May 2 8 am - 1pm Cost is $35 per person, which covers supplies for flower essences (excluding bottles). We will meet @ the parking lot near Eclectic Cafe on Sabino Canyon Road and Tanque Verde Road promptly at 8 am for carpooling to the site. Please register in advance. Space is limited to 10.
By late April in the Sonoran desert many of the spring wildflowers are fading from view as the temperatures begin to soar into the 90’s and any spring rains taper off to a early summer dry spell that lasts until the monsoon rains in July.The once abundant anemone has passed, leaving no trace of its ephemeral existence, spring green grasses are fading to crunchy brown, and trees are leafed out.A foray to one of my favorite plant collecting spots clearly shows the progression of the seasons.The desert plantain finally popped up and went to seed already, and I munch a few of the slimy seedy fruits that taste a bit like a bitter artichoke.A nice trail nibble indeed.Green Manzanita berries are beginning to blush reddish brown, and the local Artemisia is growing taller.The grapevines are finally leafing out with tender fuzzy grape leaves, and the tiniest beginnings of the vine flowers which hold promise of wild grapes come late summer.
I love the diversity and constant shifting of this remarkable desert climate, the mountains and canyons, the valleys and arroyos are always changing, the plants bloom and fruit at different times.The late spring is a good time for harvesting some of the last spring flowers, this week I was blessed with a bounty of Verbena.There are several different species of Verbena that grow in our region, V. goodingii, v. macdougalii, and v. bipinnatifida, and they all interbreed and hybridize.They are all similar in medicinal qualities, and I use them all.I still call it verbena, even though the botanists have reclassified it as Glandularia.There are certain differences in our verbena/glandularia species from the vervains of the east and Europe, but in my experience enough similarities in uses, that I use them interchangeably.Seeing how these grow here in my large desert backyard, I use this one most often.
These verbenas can be found in riparian habitats at almost any elevation, as long as they have water.I’ve harvested plants from the washes in the low desert valley, all the way up to the top of the mountains in recent burn areas on moist northern slopes.This makes it a very handy plant, able to be collected all spring and summer long at various elevations.The lower plants tend to dry up and wither away in early summer, just as the ones living in higher elevations are starting to flower.
As I wandered up the hillside from the wash, I recalled seeing several of the verbena plants by certain trees when I had been looking for anemone several weeks ago.I found those plants and gratefully harvested a few flowering branches.As I wandered the flowering verbena beckoned me onward and upward, every time I moved toward another plant, one just above me would reveal itself.I continued up the hillside, astounded by the quantity of the flowers all around.It was growing interspersed with cat claw acacia, crumbling granitic boulders, and in the wash running down the hillside.In the late afternoon sun, I sat on a boulder, next to a lush flowering verbena, grateful for the wind to cool the sweat on my back, the open view of my favorite riparian valley from above, and the call of the hawks screaming above. Much as verbena does, the collecting mission warmed me, released fluid (sweat) and relaxed the tension of the day held in tight shoulder and back muscles.
My desert Verbena is one of the most versatile medicines I use, and I can apply this sweet flowering plant to almost any situation with great benefit.Energetically it is mildly warm to neutral in temperature, and dry.It is a strong relaxant and seems to affect a variety of tissues in the body, but most specifically nervous, mucous membrane, musculoskeletal, secretory and vascular tissues.Verbena is diffusive, diaphoretic/diuretic, bitter, nervine, antispasmodic, tonic, astringent and emetic in large quantities.
I use both the fresh plant tincture and the tea of our desert verbena.The fresh plant tincture has a funny habit of sort of “gelling” up and getting a bit congealed in the bottle.It doesn’t seem to affect its properties in tincture form, but getting people to accept a strange textured tincture is a hard sell, at best.For that reason I’ve come to rely on the tea more often, but I do use the gloppy tincture most often combined with other tinctures which seems to help the glop dissipate into solution.
A warm/hot tea of the leaves and flowers is relaxant diaphoretic, useful in hot, dry and tense fever.It will induce a good sweat by relaxing tension in the capillaries and secretory tissues, allowing heat to disperse from the core to the surface.Though not specifically anti-infective, I use verbena all the time when coming down with a bug precisely for its relaxing diaphoretic property.Taken cold, or a tincture will alternatively increase diuresis.Somewhat useful for the monthly bloating that accompanies tension and crankiness during the premenstrual period.
I particularly like using verbena for cranky time during PMS, especially for women who are driven to push themselves further than they should, and hold tension in the neck/shoulders, verbena can help them to relax, slow down, release the tension and ease the irritability.This works for men too, of the same type, disregarding the PMS in that case.
I’ve used a tea of verbena to aid new mothers having trouble with nursing and producing milk.Verbena is a mild galactagouge, increases the secretion of fluids (including breast milk) and helps release tension in the upper thoracic area ( right there where the breasts are!), and helps mom to settle down enough to really be with her babe and focus on nursing.I find the tea much better in this case than the tincture, as some of these women really just need to slow down and focus, and the act of making tea feeds that process.
Verbena is also an excellent digestive system remedy for those whose stress levels have impaired their digestion.Verbena is a bitter, and increases digestive secretions all along the digestive tract, and helps to release tension the liver, stomach and bowel.I also use the tea for a ‘nervous” stomach, butterflies, nausea, gas, or general discomfort stemming from nervous tension, usually before giving a public talk, getting on a plane for long distance travel or any other situation that ties your stomach up in knots from the nerves.
I love the contrast of this plant with its amazingly sweet smelling fragrant flowers and the bitter leaves, teaching us about the balance of the sweet and the bitter in life.I love how easy and abundant her healing is, and her versatility, able to be used in many different situations with great, gentle and lasting healing.
This week I’ve been “stalking” the wild anemone of the southwest, Anemone Tuberosa.This lovely spring wildflower is a shy, small plant that hides underneath the spiny cat claw acacia, mounds of dried grasses, fallen logs, and in the crevasses between rock and soil in the grassy foothills and oak/juniper woodlands of our local mountains.It only grows in any great quantity in years when we’ve been blessed with abundant winter storms with snow and rain, and even then takes a sharp eye to spot due to its small size and tendency to hide.
Anemone, a member of the Ranunculaceae (Buttercup) family, is used much like the more well known Pulsatilla, and is related other medicinal members of the family like clematis and black cohosh.It grows from small tubers (thus the name A. tuberosa) that remain alive in the soil for much longer than the delicate flowers make their appearance.The flowers range from white to pale pink, about an inch or inch and a half in diameter, a single flower per stem.The flowers develop into bulbous, and wooly soft seed clusters that dry and scatter on the wind.The entire plant is extremely acrid, leaving a spicy, burning sensation on the tongue, and irritating to the skin.
Usually this delicate looking but strong and tenacious medicine flowers from late February through March, and occasionally into April, depending on the temperatures and continued spring rain.It has been a particularly busy February for me, juggling both work and several clients a week, with few days off.I finally got a chance to head up to the foothills of my favorite secluded canyon and medicine plant spot one morning this week.The day dawned overcast and significantly cooler than it has been for the last few weeks, and I was eager to be outside, and get a first glimpse at the plants beginning to wake up from winter rest.I knew it had been a fairly wet winter, and recent spring rains further strengthened my hope for a good wildflower year.So off I went to see if one my favorite nervous system remedies was growing in great abundance this year.A short 5 minute walk down the trail, eyes trained to the grassy areas on either side of me, revealed the first glimpse of the beauty, Anemone.I feel to my knees in the grass, gently parting the dried mat away from the multi flowered specimen that had caught my eye.Upon closer inspection, I observed that there were 3 or 4 other individual plants in that small area.I felt such a deep outwelling of gratitude to the plant, for revealing itself to me so quickly, and promising abundance in its plentitude in such a small area.
After a rather humbling experience this past fall in which I didn’t listen to a plant before harvesting, I quieted myself, focused on the small flower before me and asked permission to harvest and make medicine.It has been at least 4 years since I have collected this special medicine, as usually one batch lasts a very good while (small doses usually do the job), and I have spent some time away from the desert in those years.An affirmative response from the plant came to me, one that is difficult to describe in words, but can be distinctly experienced in the senses of the heart and spirit. It is easy to distinguish a “No” from a“yes” when working with plants and harvesting if one is sensitive and open, but I have learned, all too easy to push aside if you aren’t present and focused with the particular plant with which you are working.I’ll elaborate more on this in a future post.
I made an offering to that plant, and tasted a small portion of a leaf with gratitude, feeling the medicine of the plant fill my senses and body, a spreading warmth, a slowing and strengthening of my pulse, and a heavy calm washing over me, in addition to the characteristic burning taste it left on my tongue.
I left that spot and began to wander up the south facing hillside slowly, choosing each step carefully, eyes scanning the ground carefully for the hiding flowers, and sure enough, as the plant I had connected with had assured, there was an abundance of flowering Anemone, in various stages of growth.Some were just sprouting leaves and tiny buds, others were in full flower, and some had even begun setting seed.I quietly began to collect some of the plants, breaking stem off near the ground with my thumb, leaving the tuber in place to grow more plants in the future.The juices of the fresh plant left a burning sensation under my thumb nail as I collected, again showing its strength, especially in the fresh state.As I harvested I found myself reaching under clawing Acacia bushes, crawling on the ground, face down under branches and holding onto rocks and boulders as I found plants that offered themselves for my medicine jar.Much to my delight, as I was harvesting, I saw the beautiful Blue Dicks, Dichelostemma capitatum, with bright blue flowers and long slender lily leaves, and the spring green tender growth and fragrant violet flowers of the native verbena, Glandularia gooddingii, the golden yellow flowers of Corydalis aurea, also known as goldensmoke also dotted the hillside.Indeed, a good year for flowers!
And, as plants are able to do, the anemone made it perfectly clear when it was time to stop harvesting, a combination of not seeing anymore plants, and an inner knowing, said, “This is enough.”So I sat down on a flat rock, took off my pack and sat quietly, taking in the cool spring wind, the sun on my skin and my gratitude for the abundance that the day had given me, in just a few short hours.On my way back down the hillside I stopped to gather some of the flowering verbena (another plant I haven’t harvested in quite a while and have been running low on), and some of the fresh spring growth of the local Artemisia.I chewed a bitter leaf as I walked back, tasting the freshness, the bitterness and vigorous life bursting forth from the new growth.
Desert anemone is a very special medicine to me, one that is particular to the southwest, and so strong, and so useful.Being a member of the Buttercup family, Anemone is a very strong medicine, and small doses are really all that is necessary to receive its benefits.For most people 5-10 drops works beautifully for emotional outbursts, panic/anxiety attacks, PTSD or hormonal mood swings.I use the fresh plant tincture, hanging out in the Michael Moore camp that finds the dried plant much less effective.
Anemone is a supreme warming nervous system remedy, circulatory stimulant, relaxant nervine, digestive stimulant, and blood mover.I use it extensively for anxiety, panic attacks, hysteria, depression and hormonal mood swings.5-10 drops, taken in 3-5 drop doses, every 5 min usually takes the situation down a notch, and I find it works beautifully in combination with cardiovascular/heart remedies like passionflower or motherwort ( if racing heart or palpitations accompany) , muscular relaxants and antispasmodics like lobelia or kava (for constricted respiratory passages, or muscular tension and spasm with pain). I’ll add a little sage, wood betony or St Johns Wort if there is great fear associated with the episode or hawthorn or rose for associated heartbreak.
Anemone is also a supreme remedy for folks who are withdrawing from addictive substances.I’ve only used it for folks coming off of nicotine, or anxiety medications like Xanax, but suspect it would be very useful for other substances as well, especially if there is nervousness, anxiety and tension or emotional outbursts.In these cases I like to complement it with nervous system and adrenal restoring herbs, especially Milky Oat Seed tincture, or St Johns Wort, Scullcap, Nettle Seed or Licorice.The addition of Lobelia can be of particular benefit to those who are working with a nicotine addiction.Michael Moore states that is has been of use for “bad trips” or “hallucinogenic flights of abject terror” or anxiety from marijuana use along with Passionflower.
This is a lovely remedy for women who experience menstrual mood swings, crying jags, depression, dysmenorrhea (cramping), and/or hormonal migraines.Like its cousin Clematis, it can stave off the worst of a migraine if caught and given early, (at the time of visual disturbance), and can be of great aid in the pain and emotional havoc that plague some women at this time.Again, small doses of 5-15 drops, used alone or in combination with other antispasmodics, blood movers, and nervines as appropriate.My most recent experience in this regard combined Anemone with Viburnum, Dioscorea, and Zingiber for clotty, slow to start, painful cramping w/ menses.I only needed 2 doses of this blend spaced about 15-20 min apart to get significant relief from pain and emotional tension that I experience.A very nice acute remedy while addressing the underlying causes of hormonal imbalances or nutritional deficiencies contributing to the picture.
I could go on and on about the various uses of anemone as a stimulating poultice for arthritis, as an eye wash for conjunctivitis, or glaucoma, and a digestive stimulant, but I’ll point you to these other very well written treatises on Anemone and Pulsatilla, and stick to my own personal experience with the plant in my writing.
This is multifaceted treasure of the southwestern deserts and I am deeply grateful to be working with such magnificent plants, tender and strong, fierce and gentle, tenacious and ephemeral.
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.
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...
All day hike and plant learning experience with herbalist Darcey Blue. This will be a moderate day hike in the nearby Catalina Mountains, with plenty of stops to look at and talk about the uses, preparations and harvesting of the medicinal and edible plants we see along the way.
We'll be able to spend much more time on the plants in this all day event, and spend some time relaxing and taking in the healing the plants offer in their natural environment.
Bring your lunch, plenty of water, appropriate clothing, shoes and notetaking tools, and camera. Carpooling suggested and will be arranged by meeting at a central location arranged ahead of time.
$40 per person
Please register by September 12, 2008 by contacting Darcey at blueturtlebotanicals@gmail.com
So a few weeks ago while collecting some of the local monarda (m. pectinata) in the wash up in the mountains, I brought a few sprigs home and stuck them in water to keep them fresh for a demo at a talk I was giving. I kept one at home in the water and sure enough, like other mints, it grew roots quickly and easily. So I've potted this little monarda cutting with roots up in some native soil and hoping it will take to transplanting alright. It seems to have started to flower, which may or may not be a good sign. Struggling to reproduce before it dies? Or just in the season of flowering? Hrmm. I won't be around to baby it, so hopefully it will be alright, but suffice it to say, monarda cuttings root very easily!
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.
So, after two weeks getting settled in our new old home in the desert, I finally got a chance to run off into the hills for a morning of wild herbal wonderfulness! I almost cried with joy as I got out of the car into the blazing desert sun and ran into the dry wash towards the shade of the oaks and junipers. Home! All my friends were there, the grapes, and the junipers, and the agaves, and manzanitas and so much more!!
I always avoid the trail, because often bikers whiz by at breakneck speed, and it's less shady and pleasant on the trail, and most of my plants are growing in and around the wash. So under the road through the culverts into the dry wash I went.
Oh and the plants were abundant and lush. I got some of my favorite native artemisia ( see the picture above), which I've been without for more than a year. It's a bitter and versatile medicine, and so abundant and hardy! It grows like crazy in this wash, even though the spring runoff has long since dried up. Silvery, gentle wands of leaves growing out the crevasses of the rocks in the wash. I gathered them up and bundled them together for the trip home. This will make a very bitter tea, excellent for overheated livers and digestive systems, it is cooling and draining, but stimulates digestive secretions to improve digestive function. It is one of my reliable remedies for late night heartburn. It's a beautiful cooling and disinfectant herb, useful as poultice or compress for rashes, wounds, stings, bites, burns (sunburns beware!), cold sores, and fungal infections. Finally I use it frequently as a powerful smudging ally, to clear away negative energy or bad air. I often mix it with the juniper ( also shown in the picture above) for a potent cleansing pair. It's also a strong dream inducer, and it can be turned into an amulet, hung above the bed, or ingested for work in the dream world, day or night.
I also was looking foward to visiting the canyon grape vines that ramble along this wash. They climb the trees, and over the rocks. They don't make much in the way of fruit, I think not quite enough water for that, but they always are covered in tart little leaves, full of bioflavanoids and vitamin C. I picked many, many handfuls of the larger leaves to add to our diet this summer. Many of the leaves were still very small, so I'll come back later in the summer to gather more as they get bigger. The ones I did gather I brought home and promptly put up in a salty brine to preserve them. They'll make wonderful wrappers for rice, meats and other tasty morsels. I'm imagining lamb and brown rice with pine nuts and mint and olive oil wrapped in brined grape leaves. Yum!!!
Of course the Manzanitas are just covered with ripening fruits, which in July and August can be harvested for making jams, or sweet tart infusions. I'm thinking of fermented manzanita juice...oh, yes, that could be miraculous! There was also some quelites, or lambs quarter, not even flowering yet, so those came home with me too to go into dinner or breakfast in the next few days.
Much to my delight and suprise, I found quite a large stand of the native Stachys. Stachys coccinea, which has beautiful red flowers, likes to grow in shady protected washes with some moisture. I knew this plant grew in this wash, as I've seen it often, but only individual plants, not a large group like I found today, under my special tree. It was like a gift from my tree and plant friends, to go to my special place, and find this special plant. And if you know me at all, you know I'm rather obsessed with another herb in this genus, Stachys betonica, known as Wood Betony. I've always kind of wondered if this native Stachys was useful in anyway, especially if it is as useful as Wood Betony is. So, I did what most people should never do, but plant geeks are wont to do occasionally. I tasted a leaf. Yup...tastes an awful lot like Wood Betony leaves. Even my sweetie agreed when he tasted it. So, I was willing enough to pick a small handful of the leaves and bring them home and tincture them. I'm going to start experimenting with the herb in small quantities, as well as see if I can dig up some ethnobotanical info on this species in particular. Culpepper mentions the use of other Stachys species, and Michael Moore mentions another species in his book on the Pacific Northwest. So, if there is anything to this Stachys species, I'm determined to find out!
Among the other wonderful plant friends I saw on my walk were Garrya (Silk Tassel), Oak, Penstemon, Cottonwood, Arizona Cypress, Ocotillo all leafed out, Verbena, Camphor Weed, Yucca and Soapberry Tree. Non medicinals that I saw included a beautiful flowering stalk of Shin Dagger Agave flowers ( which smell absolutely devine!) Flowering Coral Bean (Erythrina), which is highly toxic, but makes the most beautiful coral colored beans to be used in Jewelry or ceremony. Here are the amazing looking flowers. The beans won't be out till later when the monsoon comes. There's a million other plants in this area that I'm not going to name at the moment, but I'm hoping to offer an herb walk in the area soon, if you are willing to brave the heat a little. It's easy enough to stop in the shade of the oaks often enough, and take frequent breaks. I'd love it if you'd join me! To quote a lovely little friend from the Anima Center, Rhiannon, today was a HAPPY HAPPY DAY!!
I've always lived around cottonwoods, and have noticed the cottonwood fluff floating about before. I've even noticed the fluff in mounds, thick and fluffy, on the ground in nooks and crannies, but NEVER have I seen the abundance of fluff floating about as I have today. It's like a constant snowfall of white fluff. If you check out the full sized pictures above you can see the abundance floating in the sky, and just look at that tree....oozing white fluffly stuff.
I love it! it feels like a fairy gift from the cottonwood spirit. First come the resinous medicinal buds, and the beautiful, sensual red catkins, and NOW the gift of fluffy seeds! It made me sneeze as I stood outside and watched it float about me, and got stuck in my hair. Lovely truly lovely. It is so light, it floats UPWARD from the ground, and all around in every direction. Not just down from the tree tops.
Yes, it is spring, the season of lusty, loud and flirtatious reproduction, in all the kingdoms, Plant, Animal and Human. But today, I'm talking about plant sex.
So maybe we've already heard about the pistils and stamens, and pollen and flowers, and bees and butterflies. But there is more to know that just that. The reproductive organs of plants are varied and unique. Using a few species that live just down the road from I'll illustrate.
There are two terms to know when out looking at plants and determining their sex. Monoecious and diecious. Monoeicious- derived from the greek, meaning "one household" indicates plants that have both male and female reproductive parts on one individual plant. You see this alder tree below is a monoecious plant, the male catkins which produce pollen, and the female cones which house the future seeds of the plant are both on the same plant. The second category, dieicious, are plants that have male and female reproductive parts on separate individuals, like these cottonwood trees. The bright red, large, and far more prolific catkins are the males, on male trees and produce copious amounts of yellow pollen. The smaller, green, and later blooming catkins are the female flowers of the cottonwood plant.
"The mother of us all, the oldest of us all, Hard, splendid as rock, Let the beauty you love, be what you do. There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the earth"~ Rumi ~
