The Kiss of Cottonwood & Amber: On Poplars

When the wild rose thorns catch your hair like a lover,
and the rain is but a mist that kisses your face,
and the cottonwood buds gift their aroma of honey and amber,
you will know that your heart is forever lost
to the forest and wetlands and overgrown places.

I've been running away. I have grown tired of waiting on spring, and so for the past couple weeks I have driven over to the next valley and kidnapped a friend who led me off-trail into a wetlands area where we got lost and felt our winter-weary spirits lift. The red willow was showing off its crimson bark. The wild roses were grabby and glorious, their bare, thorny limbs revealing little pockets of bird's nest treasure and strangely weathered strands of milkweed fluff that had caught there in some autumn wind and never escaped. We were watched by a mating pair of bald eagles and made eyes at them in turn until they grew shy and moved to a tree across the river. We picked up rocks and sticks, and then put them down again because we each have too many rocks and sticks in our collections.

Meandering our way through the floodplain, our fingers became sticky as we picked a few cottonwood buds here and there from each tree. We would stop from time to time, and take long breaths of the late winter air and swoon at the scent on our hands from the resin. The first time we went out wandering, a few weeks back, the snow was low on the hills and the buds were still closed tightly. Only a short time later the ice had melted from the river's edge and the buds were starting to burst open. (If you live in a climate where spring comes especially late, you may still find some buds to harvest, but time is running short.)

When the world is behaving badly, and your spirit is parched from a long, cold winter, and your green-soul knows that there is always something alive and speaking if you just pay attention, a walk in the wilds in early spring is the very best medicine. I have needed the outdoors so much this winter, so when the cottonwoods called, I answered.

In the interior of British Columbia, we use the terms "cottonwood" and "poplar" fairly interchangeably. Both cottonwood trees and balsam poplar can be identified as Populus balsamifera, though you will more often see black cottonwood specifically identified as Populus trichocarpa (and as you head east you run into variants such as plains cottonwood and eastern cottonwood, among others). The cause for the confusion is that the trees are nearly identical to each other and are known to hybridize where they meet in their environment. However, the sticky resin contained in the late winter buds is the same stuff-of-the-gods whether you stumble across black cottonwood, balsam poplar, or eastern cottonwood. Black cottonwood is sadly much maligned in my area due to the prolific downy seeds that fly through the air and coat our small town in whorls of white fibrous fluff.

If you listen carefully, cottonwood will whisper to you of thresholds and magic. A liminal being, it chooses to grow close to a water source, stabilizing the banks of rivers and offering shade.  It is prolific and grows swiftly, a benefit in our area where trees often fall to the beaver population along waterways. In my high valley desert (an unusual combination of rolling hills and mountains stuffed with pine and fir, and a valley floor dotted with lakes, with an arid region boasting desert sagebrush and bitterroot) it gets very dry from mid-May to mid-September, but cottonwoods are drought tolerant and laugh at the heat while their roots reach into the water table.

The resin found in poplar buds (sometimes called balm of Gilead) is a gummy, sweet-scented miracle. I usually infuse my harvest in oil and put it to use as a sore-muscle rub, or a chest rub when I have a cold. You can also add some local beeswax, and now you have a lovely balm you can employ for minor cuts (poplar is antibacterial as well as pain-relieving) or to pack around in your gym bag for a spot treatment for overworked muscles. I also cut a small amount of the poplar oil into my after-bath oil blend because it makes my skin smell like it has been blessed by some kind of heady temple incense. 

Magically, the honeyed resin has been used in healing and apotropaic work as well as in situations regarding love or reconciliation (likely owing to its sweet scent and sticky/binding qualities). There is also evidence that poplar was either added in kind with, or played host to, other psychotropic herbs in salves that would likely have been used as medicine, though would also have been considered 'witch's ointments.'

Possibly due to the goodly number of metamorphosis myths that the Greeks attributed to poplar, the tree whispers of shape-shifting and transformation, and the myths surrounding its connection to Hades (including his love(s) Leuce/Persephone) among others, hint at the tree's underworld connection. Poplar was also reputed to be one of the plants in the garden of Hectate. There are references, as well, to cottonwood being used in ceremonies for the dead within several First Nations tribes, and a rather fascinating belief of at least one tribe that the shade of the tree might host a spirit that could be willing to offer assistance if entreated respectfully.

Spend some time with the poplars in your region, if you can. Let them teach you about moisture and transformation while you watch the sticky buds burst open. Mind your allergies, but do delight in the snowy 'cotton' of the cottonwood seeds as they alight on the spring winds. Consider how these trees that stand at the mingling of land and water might offer insight into your own work surrounding balance, and the in-between places. Approach the shade of these great hardwoods with respect and perhaps you'll make an ally, or at the very least have a place to rest on a hot summer's day.

 *Please avoid using poplar if you have any aspirin allergies - like willow, the trees contain salicin which your body converts into salicylic acid.*

Of Interest:

Kiva Rose has a lovely post about cottonwood medicine here.

Gabby Allen writes her story of cottonwood here.

I've been gathering red willow (also called red osier dogwood) during the last month, and this post from Erin about the shrub is pure poetry.

Sources:

Edible and Medicinal Plants of Canada - Lone Pine Publishing

Wildlife and Trees in British Columbia - Lone Pine Publishing

Tree Book: Learning to Recognize Trees of British Columbia - Canadian Forest Services

Greek myths - see Leuce, Hades

theoi.com
Hidatsa history and culture
Witchcraft Medicine - Claudia Müller-Ebeling, Christian Rätsch, Wolf-Dieter Storl Ph.D.

A Toast to Spring: Rhubarb Whiskey Sour

Yesterday, as I walked though my little town, I became light-headed with the scents of spring. Every tree and shrub seemed to have exploded into shameless bloom almost overnight, and the air was heady with sweetness. The days have warmed considerably and the peas and lettuces I placed, with petitions of strength to weather the frosts, in my garden not quite a month ago, have shot up through the earth and are happily drinking in the sun and occasional moisture.

While I was partaking of my first iced coffee of the season at my friend's cozy shop, a woman came in with a basket of rhubarb. Grown in a spot perfect for catching sunlight, her rhubarb was already rapidly producing, and she had come to share her first harvest. (My own plant is still in its alien stage, pushing creepy, red pod-like growths out of the earth.) My friend and I looked at each other and started gleefully listing the things we might do with the fruit (which is truly a vegetable) and after discussing my mother's rhubarb muffin recipe and assorted compotes and sauces, our minds turned to alcohol (as they do).

Rhubarb lore ~ serving a piece of rhubarb pie to your love will ensure their fidelity.

As we had already arranged a gathering of the wild ones last night, and our farmer friend was bringing samples of last autumn's corn for us to taste and vote on the best variety, we thought the beverage of the evening should be something that celebrates spring and contributed to the theme of locally grown ingredients. It was obvious that we should make rhubarb whiskey sours.

They turned out divinely. They were sweet and tart, and perfect in every way. I believe it should be the drink of the season. Even my friends who do not partake of whiskey, swooned over this libation.

Rhubarb lore ~ hanging rhubarb leaves over your grape or cucumber vines will repel insects that might damage your crop.

Jen's note: I'm not sure how well this would work, being that my rhubarb leaves get mercilessly chewed by grasshoppers, but I imagine that worms and other pests with less hearty appetites could not stomach the poisonous leaves (they contain oxalic acid which is corrosive and can cause kidney damage).

Rhubarb Whiskey Sour

Ingredients:

Goodbye Rain, Hello Cinquefoil

 The rains have been in and out of the valley for a week, but seem to have finally let up.  Not before causing some serious flooding in some areas and a slide in a valley north of us.

I am hoping that the rains find Colorado this week - the wildfire reports from that state are terrible.  We've had our share of experience with wildfires here, being at the edge of a desert scrub area to the south and surrounded by forest in every other direction.  It gets very hot and dry here in July and August so we are always on wildfire watch.

While wandering the hills a few days ago, I spotted an area dotted with Cinquefoil.  This isn't a plant I've spent much time with so I'm planning on going back there to sit with it for a while.  In the meantime, I've scoured my books and found some information on the pretty plant.

Cinquefoil, also known as “Five Finger Grass” or “Crampweed,” is a wild perennial found across the US and Canada.  The serrated leaflets can number from 3-15 depending on the species.  When they appear with five leaflets, they look like the fingers on a hand .  Cinquefoil grows either upright or low and sending out runners like a wild strawberry plant.  The flowers also look a bit like wild strawberry flowers, but are usually yellow.

Medicinal Uses:

Being that it is of the rosaceae (rose) family it is not surprising that Cinquefoil is astringent, anti-inflammatory and diuretic.  Used as an infusion, it is wonderful as a surface wash for many skin conditions and can be used as mouthwash or a gargle for toothache, bleeding gums or a sore throat.  Because it contains tannic acid, it is considered helpful to stop bleeding.

Magical Lore:

Cunningham states: "The five points of the leaves represent love, money, health, power and wisdom, and so if carried cinquefoil grants these."

Illes's "Encyclopdedia of 5000 Spells" has two uses for cinquefoil.  Burning powdered cinquefoil in the bedroom will allow someone to dream of their true love, and carried by a fisherman, it is said to impart luck.

"Hoodoo Herb and Root Magic" lists money, love and warding off evil as five fingered grass's attributes and has a host of tricks associated with it.

Christopher Penczak, in his marvellous book "The Plant Spirit Familiar," has this to say:  "Cinquefoil is a common ingredient in classic flying ointments, though it is not known for any particularly narcotic or psychotropic properties.  As a flower essence, it helps clear any unwanted imprints and protects us during psychic experience, which may explain it's use in flying ointments.  Generally, the spirit of cinquefoil tends to energetically support us in whatever we do."

If you use cinquefoil for any medicinal or magical purposes, I'd love to hear about it!

Sweet Dandelion

My never-ending love affair with dandelion had me making a gorgeous, sweet syrup last week.

There seem to be a handful of different ideas on how this is done.  I read about a dozen recipes and then decided to wing it.  Here's what happened:

I picked a ridiculous amount of dandelion flowers and then separated the yellow petals out.  Several recipes mentioned that the bitterness of any green portion of the dandelion will give a bite to the syrup.  I have since found that this is not really the case.  My friend the Eco Diva has been making a ton of syrup and used the entire flower head.  I tasted her version and it was lovely.

My Version:

1 good cup of dandelion petals
3 cups of water

Bring water and petals to a boil in a pot and then turn off heat, cover and let steep overnight.
The next day, pour the dandelion infusion through cheesecloth or an unbleached coffee filter.

Return infusion to your pot, add a few slices of lemon and orange.  Bring to a slow boil and then remove the citrus.  Add 1 cup of honey and simmer until the syrup thickens. (About 1.5-2 hours)

Pour into sterilized jars and enjoy!

Eco Diva's version:

250 dandelion heads plus 4 cups of water to create your infusion.
The next day (after straining) add citrus slices or cinnamon & clove to the infusion.
Bring to a soft boil and then remove the citrus or cinnamon.
Add 2 lbs raw cane sugar & simmer 2 hours until thickened.

After spending an hour removing petals, I like the idea of using the entire heads.  I'm going to try her version this week.

Now that dandelion flower season is here, get out there and pick like crazy.  The smaller leaves are wonderful in salads.  The flower heads can be used fresh or dried in tea blends or infused in oil and used as a lymph massage oil (great for breast health!)  Even the milky sap is said to remove warts and corns if applied topically.  (I've not tried it - let me know if it works.)

There is no reason not to go out and enjoy those lovely yellow flowers in your yard.  Happy picking!

Spring Harvest

A walk alongside the river each day helps me center and allows me to chart the progress of the seasons.  I've watched leaves and blossoms bursting open these last two weeks and it's been quite the show.  Yesterday, aided by my trusty blue bucket, I set out to find some Oregon grape flowers.

Oregon grape is anti-inflammatory and anti-bacterial.  The active ingredient in the plant is berberine, which gives Oregon grape its yellow blossoms and the bright yellow found beneath the bark of the entire shrub.  The root is most favoured for extracting berbarine (a suitable substitute for the increasingly rare goldenseal,) but root harvesting is preferable in the Autumn or early Spring before the shrub blossoms. Because berberine is found throughout the entire plant and because I wanted a gentle tonic, I chose to harvest some flowers for a tincture.

I also started an oil infusion with the flowers.  The oil can then be used on the skin to aid in relief from any inflamed cuts, rashes or other skin conditions.  A great article with more information about Oregon grape can be found here.

My other great find was a few spots where wild raspberry canes were leafing.  Raspberry leaf (wild or domestic) is wonderful dried for tea.  Although it's touted as a pregnancy drink, anyone can benefit from the vitamins and minerals it contains.  I've been low on my calcium intake lately, which is probably why this plant called to me.  Other great minerals contained in raspberry leaf are potassium and phosphorous.

Raspberry leaf can also be used a tummy tea to ease tummy ache/digestive issues and it was also talked about by Dr. Oz a while back in regards to its ability to lower blood sugar levels, which would be great for people who are at risk for becoming diabetic.

I also found this little gem, winking up at me from the road.

Head out into your local hills and fields with a good plant guidebook and see what you can find.  You never know what the local flora has to offer you this time of year.

May is coming along rather nicely, I'd say!

Tincturing

Tinctures are a wonderful way to experience herbal medicine, but buying tinctures at the store can be expensive. Why not make your own?

You can create your own tinctures using fresh or dried plant material. Some herbalists insist on only using fresh plants, believing that medicines and energy are lost in the drying process, while others maintain that using dried plants for tinctures are better than not tincturing at all. You will have to decide what works for you.

For a tincture, you will need:

~80-100 proof vodka or rum ("Proof" is determined by doubling the percentage. So, 40 percent alcohol is 80 proof.)
~Clean, sterilized jar with lid
~Plant material
~Cheesecloth or unbleached cotton cloth
~Dose/dropper bottles

*Please note: if you cannot imbibe small amounts of alcohol, you can use water or vinegar, but these will then be called “extracts.”

If you are using fresh plant material, fill your jar with the plant (but don’t stuff or press down) and then fill the jar with the alcohol. If you are using dried material, use about an ounce of plant to a pint (or approx 500 ml) of alcohol. To eyeball it - fill jar about 1/3 with plant material. I’ve heard of people filling a jar with considerably more than that - but you will find what works for you.

Make sure your alcohol completely covers your herbs/plants. If there is some evaporation, add more alcohol. You don’t want to encourage mould or bacterial growth.

Shake your bottle daily for the first week or two, and then shake weekly. Allow this to sit for six weeks, or longer if using dried plant material. If you are using dried plants, the longer you leave it sit, the better.

When you are ready to bottle your tincture, strain it through the cheesecloth and place in dropper bottles and label. Store in a cool, dark place and your tinctures should last years.

A few great plants to tincture include:

Echinacea
St. John’s Wort
Skullcap
Dandelion

Tinctures can be taken under your tongue or diluted in water or juice. Dosages can be anywhere from 3-30 drops 1-3 times a day. If you are unsure how much of your tincture to use, do a quick search online, consult a herbalist or check out Susun Weed’s website or books for great herbal information.

Happy tincturing!

This Week In The Garden

I've been yard-harvesting for almost two weeks now.  I've harvested as much dandelion root as I could but once dried, it doesn't look like much.  My hands, lower back and legs would protest the meagre harvest, but they are all too tired to complain.  I noted (and promptly picked) three dandelion blossoms today, so I have to say that the root harvesting is over until the Autumn.  All that energy is being sent up into blooms now, which I'll happily pick all summer in the hopes of making some syrup, infused oil and hopefully some wine too!

I also picked some plantain today, some common mallow, and some of the chickweed shown below for a nice healing salve for my already worn-out hands. I love that there are so many great plants just sitting in the yard, waiting to be found!

Shabby phone-quality pics aside, I'm excited to capture the return of the perennials!  Here is a fancy yarrow that blooms a gorgeous orange-red:

This rather obscene-looking mess is rhubarb returning.  I have a love-hate relationship with it.  I find it brutish and bitter, but my mother makes the most amazing rhubarb muffins with a brown sugar topping that makes it worth putting up with this monstrosity.

This is a pot of vervain vigorously growing.  I honestly thought I'd lose all my potted herbs this Winter, but the vervain and the evening primrose seem to be pretty hardy.  The vervain didn't bloom last year (I grew it from seed, sown straight into the pot) so I hope I get some pretty blue flowers this Summer!

This is not a plant.  This is Dexter, who has planted himself in the sink.

I didn't take pictures of the miniscule peas and radishes that have popped up in the veggie beds, but I am terribly happy to see them.  With the snow/rain/sun/frost we've been having, I was getting worried about the seeds I had planted. 

It seems like the weather has finally shifted and we are finally coming into a proper Spring!

Spring's Roots and Shoots

I've been out wandering as much as possible lately.  It leaves little time for blogging, but it is so good for the spirit.  My heart is still weary (has it been 3 weeks already since my dear kitty has moved on?)  But I seem to find respite in the yard and the meagre offerings of the gardens and walking the path by the river.

The buds are fattening up nicely, although the snow is still teasing us on the hills.  The weather fluctuates from moment to moment these days and so it's more than likely that I'll awake to snow flakes, have a sunny morning to dig around the yard and then experience a cloudy and cool afternoon. 

Frost on the Oregon Grape

The bounty of Spring has been a blessing.  I've been eating fresh chives for a few weeks now, as well as chickweed and digging dandelion roots to dry for tea.  Here's a great post by DJ Martin about the joy of dandelions.

I've also received some Sweet Flag Root (also known as Bitterroot or Calamus) and found a wonderful write up about it here. I've been chewing on it for a few days now and I was telling a friend that it has this lovely "gold-panning" effect on my mind. Instead of the usual non-stop banter skipping from one thing to the next, no matter how irrelevant, my mind seems to slow down and only the important things float to the surface. All the nattering seems to sink to the bottom. I imagine this might be why this root is valued for use in anti-anxiety work.

I'm really falling in love with roots these days!

I hope your April has begun nicely.  For those that are celebrating Holy Week, I wish you blessings.  For those who are merely grabbing a chocolate bunny and getting down to business - I'm right beside you! 

What's Brewing In The Kitchen

Candles lit and glowing bright,

Herbs are strewn both left and right,

A Witch's work is never done,

Under moon or under sun.

I have to laugh as I look around the kitchen tonight.  Everywhere I look, there is something brewing.  A bowl of mixed herbs sits on the counter, waiting to be bagged and delivered to two ladies who want a little herbal power when they sweep.

 

In a make-shift burner of a leaf-shaped bowl held over a tea light, a water-based potion infuses for a house blessing I'm going to tomorrow. 

For those that care to know, each herb was chosen for it's association with "purification."  Each element was represented:
Earth - Vervain
Air - Lavender
Fire - Tobacco
Water - chamomile
Plus a pinch of sage for cleansing & a pinch of sea salt for protection.
(Of course, correspondences vary - the associations in one book may differ from another, and what says "Air" to me, may not to you.)

The infusion will be strained and bottled and used to annoint doorways and windows.

Over on the stove, a pot holds multiple herbs infusing in oil.  This will be strained and beeswax added and bottled for use on Winter-weary skin.

The kitchen smells of rose petals and lavender, beeswax and chamomile.  The flickering candles send dancing shapes across the walls and Beau-the-cat is riveted. 

I've blended, blessed and bottled, and now I think all these divine scents and lovely energy are directing me...straight to bed! 

Blessings, from my kitchen to yours!

Wildcrafting

Determined to find some small moment or project each day to help me appreciate Summer despite the sweltering heat, I decided that I would go sage picking this morning.

I live in an area that is partially lakes, vineyards and mountains, and part arid desert.  The desert areas are where the sagebrush grows wild and spreads as far as you can see.  I drove out to one of these areas today, and picked a good bucket of sage to dry for loose smudge and to try my hand at some bundles.

There are some people who don't believe you should ever remove any plant from the wild, and I respect that view, but politely maintain that wildcrafting when done properly, can be a very rewarding experience. 

Some important tips about wildcrafting:

~ Be sure that you know a bit about the plant you are harvesting.  If it is rare or endangered (or poisonous) please don't pick it!  Carry a good plant identification book with you.  Lone Pine is one of many great publishers that feature resource books that I love and use.

~ Look around you.  What is in the immediate area?  Are you beside a highway that may be exposing the plants to exhaust fumes?  Are you near an orchard or farm that sprays its crops with pesticides?  Think about what these plants may have been exposed to.

~ Are there many specimens of your desired plant to be found in this area?  I always make sure I'm picking in a place where the plant in question is abundant so as not to remove pieces of the last plant of its kind in the area.

~ Use clean, sharp garden snips or scissors to gather your plant materials.  Not only is one, clean snip a nicer way to gather rather than tearing a branch off a plant, but plants can be subject to disease, rusts or pests riding on your old, unclean garden tools.

~ Only take one or two branches/ flowers/stems from each plant.  You want to leave as much of the healthy plant behind as possible so it may continue to grow well (and possibly provide for you next year.)

~ Leave behind an offering.  On the way out to pick, I ask that I be led to the plants/bushes that are willing to give a bit of themselves for my purpose.  I feel that it's only fair and respectful to leave something (natural/organic) behind.  I alternate between leaving ceremonial tobacco leaves or herbs I've grown and spring water.

~ Leave the land better than you found it.  If there is trash on the ground - pick it up.

My little picking adventure was a great way to start the day.  I highly recommend getting out and seeing what your area has to offer in the way of plant life.  If not for harvesting, then just for appreciating! 

My Father the Dandelion Killer

I was over at my parent's house last weekend and noticed my father had mowed the lawn.  Every inch of it, but one. 

"Why did you leave the dandelion?" My mother asked.
"It's not a dandelion, it's a flower!" Dad replied.

I'm not sure how it ended up in the yard, but the Valley is full of these yellow wildflowers each spring.  I believe they are called Yellow Salsify - but we just call them "those yellow wildflowers."

I find this lone wildflower in my parents yard amusing because of how my father normally reacts to dandelions.  He detests them.  He spends many a Summer day out on the lawn, on his hands and knees with an old kitchen knife, digging the weeds out by the roots.  (At least Mom and I convinced him years ago to stop spraying!)

This is his Summer-long mission, and by the end of September, his back is dark brown from the sun, and the knee pads that he purchases specifically for this task, are barely holding together.

Who knew he had a soft spot for other yellow wildflowers?  Now if I could only get him to save me the dandelion roots and leaves....

If you get your hands on some dandelion this Summer (that has not been sprayed) consider adding the leaves to your salads.  Dandelion is a great source of iron, zinc, potassium and vitamins A, B, C and D.  Traditionally dandelion was used to treat liver problems, but it can also be used for digestive issues.

Like any herbs, use caution if you have allergies or are taking medications.  Dandelion leaf is a diuretic, so having a salad entirely of dandelion leaves is probably not the best idea!  Check out a trusted book or website for uses and dosages if you choose to take dandelion as a herbal remedy.

As for me, I'm going to try to wrangle up a few leaves before my father's next big dandelion hunt, to put in my Spring salad this weekend.  Yum!